


Trouble lover

by ChasingMarvel



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Army, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Captain America - Freeform, Gen, Genius Tony Stark, Kid Peter Parker, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Marvel Universe, Military, Minor Character(s), Multi, Nightmares, Parent Tony Stark, Past Torture, Past Violence, Peggy Carter - Freeform, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Precious Peter Parker, Sexuality Crisis, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers as Peter Parker's parental figure, Stony - Freeform, Superfamily (Marvel), Tony Stark & Steve Rogers - Freeform, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, ironman - Freeform, mother's absence, steve rogers as peter parker's biological father
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:49:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 40,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22267435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChasingMarvel/pseuds/ChasingMarvel
Summary: Steve Rogers, an ex-soldier with PTSD after coming back from war, struggles to extinguish all his demons since his 7 year old kid, Peter, needs all his attention.Beyond that, he has a pretty normal life that is about to be drastically changed by a strange encounter.On a cold winter night,the genius,billionaire,and almost frozen to death, Tony Stark, was luckily rescued by his guardian angel Steve.As it seems they will never see each other again, Stark can't get the blondie off his mind.Tony Stark will turn his whole world upside down,but is Steve really ready for that?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter & Steve Rogers, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark
Comments: 14
Kudos: 48





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! So, this is my first work, therefore i apologise if the writing isn't perfect. I really enjoy writing,but it just for fun, i'm not a trained writer. Anyways i really hope you'll enjoy this first chapter as much as i did!  
> 

Steve woke up. Everything was quiet, but his heavy sighs started filling the dark, tiny and cold room. The ordinary silence of the night was broken again by his own anxious breath. But he was used to it. He tried everything, even the sleeping pills, but nothing seemed to work. His brain worked like crazy during the night, every little detail of his past came back in his dreams as a reminder of what he had been through. His mind was a haunted house with no escape. 

Trying to extinguish all his demons wasn’t easy, since he had a 7 year old kid to take care of. 

As his breathing calmed down, he moved his eyes right next to him, where his little bundle of joy was sleeping peacefully. They watched a movie together, and Peter fell asleep right in Steve’s arms. Ah, he would have paid thousands just to be able to sleep like his little man. Peter always managed to calm his Pops down. Just by looking at him Steve worried about nothing. All he wanted was to see his baby by his side, healthy and happy, and he was. 

He tried to get up without waking up Peter, as he wanted to get rid of all the sweat soaking from his forehead, caused by a nightmare. He managed to do that before going to the little bathroom right next to their bedroom.  
The house was not so big, not even that pretty, but it was home. They both felt safe in that place. They shared many memories, laughs and tears between those walls, so, even if it wasn’t the prettiest house out there, that was all that they could have ever asked for. 

He washed his face with cold water, with the intention to wash off the images that his mind tried to bring back every single time, but, as soon as his eyes closed, they kept coming back. He sighed, staring at himself in the slightly dirty mirror. -Pete, you always make a mess washing your teeth.- He thought, observing the toothpaste prints on the mirror.  
Not long after, he went back to bed, laying next to his baby boy, embracing him with an arm. A second later, his little warm body was crawling against his chest, cuddling up. 

“Bad dream daddy?” Peter asked in a murmur. 

“Yeah baby, I'm okay now.” Steve answered, leaving a sweet kiss on Peter’s curls. “Now back to sleep, or you’re gonna be a little zombie tomorrow morning” 

Peter smiled softly as he heard his Pop’s words and, as said, he went back to sleep between his arms.  
Nothing seemed easier than that: falling asleep like a baby. But a long sleepless night was waiting, instead, for Steve. 

\------

“C’mon Pete, don’t make this hard. We’re going be late.” Steve tried to talk to Peter who was jumping on his feet on the sofa. 

Here’s another thing about Peter: he had adrenaline pumping out of all his pores since the moment he woke up. That’s why he didn’t like naps. He liked running, playing...not napping, he always said that to his dad. The only way to make him fall asleep was a big cup of hot milk with Nesquik. One second later he would have been asleep in his bed. The sleeping pill every parent needs for his child. 

One shot, boom, asleep. Fantastic. 

“But I like my hair this way!” he answered, shaking his head full of curls like crazy. 

“It’s messy. You can’t go to school like that. You look like the Back to the future guy.” he said before grabbing him from his hips and carrying him to the bathroom on his shoulder. Peter was all giggly, as he tried to break his dad’s grip without any success. 

“His name is Emmett dad!” he exclaimed and Steve sat him on the bathroom counter’s edge. 

“Yeah, whatever.” Steve tried not smile. He knew perfectly the name of the characters since Peter forced him to watch Back to the future at least three times a week. He just really enjoyed watching him getting mad. 

He took the comb and, thankfully, Peter let his dad brush his hair without saying a word. Peter didn’t like it when Steve had to brush his hair, but Steve always made sure he wasn’t going to school looking like a little messy lion. Especially at the new school. He didn’t want other parents to look at him like he was ‘the strange kid’. He knew those kinds of parents, unfortunately, but he didn’t want his son to be a victim of ignorant adults. At the old school they already had enough gazes of pity from these people, because they noticed the absence of Peter’s mother. Steve always hated those gazes. They would have had nothing to pity if only they knew Peter and his dad. They lived happily, even without her. They made him feel like he wasn’t enough for his son. Maybe, Steve thought, a mother could have given him more than what he did. But certainly not that woman. 

“Here we go. See? It wasn’t that bad. You just like drama little man.” Peter was back on his feet as he ran to the kitchen to take his schoolbag, ready to leave for school. 

Once they arrived at school, Steve snuggled Peter between his arms just a little bit more before letting him down on his feet and lowering at his height; in that way he could look at him in the eyes. He cupped his hands on his cheeks, caressing them softly. 

“Can we eat ice cream later?” Pete said while playing with Steve’s sleeves with his little hands. He looked at him with his puppy eyes, trying to convince him. 

Steve laughed a little, not surprised how Peter’s first thought in the morning was eating. 

“I’m going to pick you up when I'm done at work and we’re going to eat a lot of ice cream. How does that sound?” Peter let out a little smile before hugging tightly his dad. 

“’Kay. Bye daddy! ‘Till later!” he shouted happily before running towards the entrance, where the teacher was waiting for all the kids to get inside. 

Steve smiled back to him, waving when he saw him shaking his little hand next to his teacher. He waited for him to get inside before releasing a little sigh. 

Now it was Steve’s turn to go to school. Well, of course it was not a school, but still a place where he didn’t want to go. He worked as a telephone operator in New York City. Sure thing was that Steve wasn’t so passionate about this, it actually made him feel very stressed and depressed, which made his PTSD even worse. He sure was passionate about the job he had before, and he doubted he could ever love another job as much as the previous one. 

He was a soldier, a very good one. He loved his career with all his heart and when he had to quit because of a serious injury to his right arm, his whole world fell into pieces. 

During a rescue mission in Afghanistan, which lasted two months, he was hurt by three gunshots. Two pierced his right arm and the other one struck his muscled shape near his right lung. Steve felt nothing but a wave of cold running through his entire body, shaking him so violently that made him fall on his knees on the dry soil. 

Only a few soldiers survived that day. The sudden attack had led to hundreds of deaths. 

The nearest hospital housed him and managed to help him despite his critical life functions. He didn’t remember much. He remembered waking up every now and then with an agonizing pain spreading to every single part of his body, while his figure was laying still on the gurney. Screams didn’t even come out of his throat as his lungs were heavy inside his chest, and with every breath he felt like choking. 

If only the physical pain was everything to deal with, he probably would have slept more serene nights. But the already seen horrors of the different missions had shaped him in an irreversible way. 

Since that moment Steve was completely dismissed from any kind of physical work regarding the army. He could still, anyway, be part of the military, but stubborn as he is, he refused even to explore other branches. He wanted to be on the battle field, that was his vocation, he wouldn’t have done anything else if it wasn’t that. 

Steve blinked twice before coming back to reality. He checked the hour on the watch around his wrist realising it was time to leave and get to work. 

Unfortunately, he didn’t work close to Peter’s school, and, because of the struggle with anxiety, being so far from his boy wasn’t the best. But they were doing fine, he was doing fine now, much better than months before when the panic attacks used to strike daily after leaving Peter at school. But he was glad Peter never had to see him having one before. 

His PTSD was much worse years ago, when Peter was only a few months old. Coming back from war and meeting his 3 months old new born was a shock, and, as a single dad, his anxiety kicked in really badly. The fear of losing him, of Peter getting hurt or sick, the nightmares, the panic attacks... all that made the last few years a huge challenge for Steve. 

Peter was the only one who could ease his interior pain just by being near him. He was his little angel. Maybe, without Peter, Steve wouldn’t have got through all of this.  
As Peter managed to take care of his Papa’s mental health, Steve had to take care of his baby too. That’s why he accepted this unsatisfactory job in the first place. 

The car trip was 15 minutes long but he finally arrived at work. The first thing he did, as every single morning, was to grab a cup of hot coffee from the vending machine. He needed those few moments of peace and a dose of caffeine to start the long work’s day. He worked 7 hours a day, so that he had the time to pick up Peter from school, but they really felt like 12. Once he got back to his workplace, with a long sigh, he sat on the uncomfortable plastic chair, looking at the black computer’s monitor. While he was busy turning it on, he looked around him at his colleagues, all concentrated on answering clients’ questions at the phone. Not even given the time to wear the telephone headset, the phone started ringing: therefore Steve’s work day had begun. 

“Mam’ I cannot forward your call to Mr. Coulture. He will be in his office at 8, you’ll have to wait another half an hour to talk to him. You can talk to one of his assistants.” he repeated, for what must have been the fifth time, to an old angered lady on the phone. 

Massaging the temples, he tried to alleviate the headache all these people had been giving him since almost three hours, and it did seem to help a little. He looked up one moment, to see what was popping up on the computer, probably another email from a client, when a woman’s figure appeared right behind the monitor. She smiled at him, with her blonde hair framing her fair face, hands resting carefully on the computer’s edge. As Steve recognised her, he smiled softly, lifting his index finger as a sign to wait the end of the call. He didn’t take off his eyes from her for a single moment and, just a few minutes later, the old lady hung up, setting free the poor man’s ears. 

“She didn’t wanna drop it off uh?” she noticed, with her usual sparkling smile and eyes nailed on Steve’s. 

“ Yeah, you know how it works” he Steve smiled a little, elbows placed on his desk, his muscles tension emphasising his carved shoulders. “Everything alright?” he asked, lowering of a few tones his voice. Sharon took advantage of it, lowering near his face, so that no one could hear them. 

“I’m free after work. Can we go at your place?” she asked alluring, looking at him right into his eyes. Steve looked around him, to be sure everyone was minding their own business, then he nodded with the head. “Yeah it’s fine. I’ll meet you, usual place” he whispered before giving her a little smile, and they both went back to work. 

As noticed, Steve and Sharon, as well as being colleagues, were a sort of friends with benefits. It all started when, one night, they both got really drunk while hanging out with friends from work. They ended up sleeping together. Maybe because Steve had not been involved in any kind of sexual activity since his army’s dismiss, and Sharon couldn’t resist to such a Greek sculpture, they got caught up in the moment. That was the starting point of a vicious cycle. The first night, better to say morning, they promised not to catch feelings for each other. Steve fortunately didn’t find any trouble with that. Of course he cared deeply about Sharon, she turned out to be one of his closest friends, but he was just enjoying the fun. 

The clock marked three o’clock sharp, so Steve could finally drop the headset and get out from that hostile place. He met Sharon behind the grey building, who was waiting for him wrapped around her ochre coat. 

“I need to pick up Peter” he whispered leaving a kiss on her flushed cheek. She turned her head towards him, sighing slightly. “Already?” 

He pretended to think about it, staring at the wall on the other side of the bed, before exclaiming “Yep.” he got up quickly, covering his naked body with a pair of boxer and jeans. “Do you need a ride home?” he asked, dressing up very quickly, showing his back to the blondie. 

Sharon was staring at him, enchanted like usual, watching his back muscled clenching with every movement. “Not necessary. I can take the bus.” 

Steve finally turned back to face her and looked right into her eyes, wondering if she was about to change her mind. “Alright. See you at work then” he shown his perfect smile as he left to meet again with his little boy. 

\------

“Daddy you here!” Peter shouted happily, running towards his dad with the backpack on his shoulders, too big for such a little body. He always carried too many toys with him, but when Steve tried to argue that, it was a lost cause. Nothing could divide that little guy from his toys. 

Steve bowed so that he could welcome Peter between his arms. When he squeezed him on his chest, Peter began to laugh and, for Steve, it was the most beautiful sound in the world. 

“So we eatin’ ice cream?” Peter asked excited, moving his little feet in the air. He looked at his dad with a beautiful smile imprinted on his baby face. 

“Sure thing baby. We’re going at your favourite place. And.. I was thinking that, after, we can stop at grandma’s for a bit. Sounds good bud?” Steve asked Peter, hoping it was fine with him. 

She was the one that first hold Peter when he was born, since Steve couldn’t be there because of his army’s duty. She took care of him all on her own for three months until Steve was finally back from the living hell. 

Steve was pretty surprised when he first saw Peter, as a fact he didn’t know he was going to be a dad, neither did his mother. Let’s say that the little guy was a huge surprise, a scary one at the beginning, but the most beautiful that Steve ever had. 

Sure, it was no easy task taking care of a son all on his own, but Steve never complained. He was his responsibility and, as one, he promised to protect him at all cost. Peter’s mother apparently didn’t want to take her responsibility, so Steve had no other choice, nor that he would have preferred otherwise. 

“Granny has chocolate!” he said in agreement, nodding immediately with his little head. 

“Granny spoils you too much!” he laughed, thinking about how many times Steve told his mother not to give too many sweets to Peter. All the little kids become hyperactive with that kind of sugar rush. 

They went to the ice-cream parlor a few blocks away from Peter’s school. Then they took a sit on a bench, settled in the park right in front of the ice-cream maker guy. 

“Mmh, I love Cookies!” Peter said, eating his ice-cream with very much enthusiasm. The most simple doing appeared to his eyes as the most amazing thing ever. That really made his Pops happy. Seeing Peter smile was his only aim as a father, and sometimes he wished he could see the world through his baby’s eyes. 

“Sure you do bean.” he looked at Peter, cleaning the ice-cream around his mouth with a tissue. “Let me taste it.” he continued, trying to take a little of his ice-cream with the spoon, but Peter immediately argued that choice. 

“No! You have your own.” he pointed at Steve’s ice-cream with his little finger. Then, he smirked and continued eating his own, stepping a few inches away from his dad. 

“Oh wow you even got far away from me?” the drama queen Steve is came out in that exact moment, placing one hand on his heart in a theatrical gesture. “I take this as a personal attack. I won’t buy you ice-cream ever again kiddo.” 

“Fine. Granny will.” he showed him his tongue, starting to laugh right after. 

Steve looked at him in shock “Grandma will not if I say so.” 

“Like she does with chocolate?” Peter teased, looking at his dad right into his eyes. The kid was a smart ass. 

“Peter Benjamin Parker Rogers, now I want revenge. And you know what that means.” he said in a lower voice, trying to sound intimidating but at the same time funny. Peter started to laugh as he knew what was about to come. He curled up, trying to protect himself from the future torture. 

Steve tried to maintain a threatening tone and got close to Peter in less than a second, starting to tickle Pete’s tummy with his big hands. As he heard Peter burst out laughing, Steve joined him without stopping from his doing. 

“Surrender or I will torture ‘till your tummy hurts for laughter!” he exclaimed, while Peter, overwhelmed by his own laughter, fell upon his daddy’s legs with his little body. 

“I won’t!” 

“Sure you will buddy.” he laughed listening to his baby’s sweet giggles. 

“I am! Stop dad!” Peter was able to say between one laugh and another. Steve stopped tickling him but he did not stop to laugh as he enjoyed the view of Peter trying to catch his breath, leaning on his legs. 

He could’ve watched his Peter smiling all day long and never get tired of it. Sometime he stopped to think how lucky he was to have him in his life. And how this same life was so intriguing, so magical just in the process of creating a child. He gave life to that little man laying on his lap. It sounded ridiculous to him. 

He was blood of his blood, same flesh and that, for Steve, will always be a sort of magic. 

After they finished their ice-cream, they went for a walk in the park. Peter loved winter, the snow but not so much the cold. New York is always freezing during winter time, that’s the reason why they didn’t go for walks that much. They preferred watching movies together, like Back to the Future, or playing with toys, especially the electric train that Steve bought him a few Christmases before. But still, Peter would have been looking in awe the falling snow outside the window. They built snowmen very often at the park, when it wasn’t too cold, and they loved it. Probably more Peter than Steve as he always found himself covered in snow thrown by that little man. 

Steve always thought NYC was beautiful during winter. The snow would fall down and cover everything around them so softly that it looked like an endless blanket. It felt comfortable to Steve. He remembered when his mother, Sarah, once took him out to a café right next to their old house, where she still lived, and bought him a hot chocolate with cream on it. He loved it so much that his mother started to take him there whenever she could. That’s when it became a tradition. The night before Christmas the Rogers’ family would reunite around that café’s table and drink a good hot chocolate. It was a way to enjoy each other’s company and it was an excuse for little Steve to have his favourite beverage. 

Sadly, the tradition was interrupted when Steve was diagnosed with PTSD, which was 7 years before. He felt awful, he was tormented by senses of guilt, his instable mind was tortured by the horrors of the war, and there was Peter to take care of. As a consequence, the tradition kind of slipped away from his mind, he had other stuff to worry about. 

Peter’s words brought him back on planet Earth. “We’re going to Granny now?” he asked looking up to his daddy, happy to see again his grandmother. 

He was walking hand in hand with Steve but he struggled a little to keep his steps with his little legs, so Steve usually walked much slower for his son’s sake. 

“Yeah baby. Let’s go get the car, shall we?” he smiled down at him, squeezing slightly his little hand. 

They got in the car a few minutes later as they had to walk back to Peter’s school, where Steve had parked it. He tied Peter on his booster seat, placed on the back seats of the car, before starting to drive towards his mother’s place. 

“Can we play ‘I see, I see?’ “- Peter asked after a few moments of silence, while chewing his own shirt. 

Steve looked at him through the rear view mirror and smiled a little “If you stop chewing your shirt. Can’t hear ya otherwise.” he touched his hear as a sign, looking back to the road. 

Peter stopped and sat straight on the booster. “You start!” 

Steve started looking out of the car window, just pretending to be as concentrated as possible since he still had to focus on the road. “I see, I see...” he started tipping the fingers on the handlebars. Something suddenly lured his attention. “A fluffy thing.” 

Peter tilted his head, a little confused. “Fluffy? Like slime?” 

Now Steve was the confused one. Peter was able to connect everything with those sticky monstrosities that Steve always had to rub off the house’s walls. He loathed them with all his soul, but Peter liked them, so he sacrificed his wall’s safety for him. He would sacrifice literally everything to make him happy. 

“No Pete. Like a soft thing. That you like to pet.” 

“Mh” Peter touched his chin with his little hand and furrowed his forehead. He liked showing that he was thinking very hard. His big eyes paid attention to every little thing around him: all the cars surpassing them and the ones that were parked, the trees and the benches covered in snow, women and men walking down the streets. Then he looked straight in front of him, through the car window and that’s when a dog appeared at his sight, in the back seats of the car ahead of them. 

“It’s a dog!” he shouted, feeling so proud of himself, clapping his hands and moving his little legs against the car's seat. 

Steve laughed at his enthusiasm. “You got it buddy! Good job! Now’s your turn.” 

“I see, I see...” he switched again to his previous thinking position “a flying superhero!” he said and turned his gaze back to Steve, waiting impatiently for his answer. 

Steve laughed a little, looking outside the window to pretend searching for the flying superhero. He found delight in pretending to see what his son told him to, to keep Peter’s flow of imagination in motion. 

“You said a flying superhero uh? Can you tell me where he is? I don’t see him” 

“That’s too easy dad!” Peter laughed “I can tell you that he’s sitting in the car!” 

“Then how does he fly?” 

“This is a flying car daddy! Don’t you see it? And you’re the superhero! Cause you always do superhero stuff for me!” he let go, happily, but suddenly became a little shy since he started to curled up on the booster. 

Steve felt his heart exploding because of the tenderness that Peter’s words released. He saw himself much likely to stop the car right there so that he would have been able to hug that little human. He didn’t feel like he deserved such a son. Peter was too perfect and pure for him, maybe even for the whole world. He’d give his life to protect him. 

“Pete, that’s really sweet. I love you, remember that bean. I’d do anything to keep you safe with me. Always” he said, meaning every single word of it. 

“I know that Pops. That’s why you are my superhero!” Steve smiled softly, looking back at him. Steve reached out for his tiny leg with a hand, caressing it gently to cuddle him. 

He prayed God for moments of happiness like that, forever. 

The car trip was as short as Steve repeatedly told Peter, who couldn’t wait to get off the car to greet his grandmother. 

“We’re here Donkey” Steve warned Peter before stepping out the car and unlocking Peter’s seatbelt. Steve loved making references to the different movies he and Peter watched together. Peter started to learn them too and his dad used to make fun of him, using the nickname ‘little nerd’. 

Pete was safe on the ground and, dividing them from grandma’s house was only a little gravel walkway, where Peter’s little feet scampered to reach the front door. The bell rang under the pressure of Peter’s little finger and, when Steve walked next to him, Sarah opened the door with a beautiful smile on her face. 

Peter shouted her name, which was just ‘Granny’ for him, and he rushed into his grandmother’s arms. Sarah picked him up softly between her arms, leaving sweet kisses on his head. 

“My sweet boy. Look at you, always getting bigger eh?” the happiness shown by her eyes while looking at her only grandson was beyond words. Steve loved that. 

“And stronger, just like daddy!” he stated, showing proudly his muscles which made both Steve and his mother chuckle. 

“Sure you are kiddo. You’ll become much stronger than me when you’re older” 

Steve left a kiss on his mother’s cheek before going inside the welcoming house. Sarah’s house was always very warm, which made it even more comfortable. Steve and Peter loved this house for another reason too: it hosted them for the first two years of Peter’s life. Moving out was a big step for both of them, but it was the right choice. 

The living room was the best part: a huge sofa garnished the room in front of a beautiful rustic fireplace. Spending time relaxing with the warm heat of the crackling fire was a must do, during winter time. Peter loved laying his back on his pop’s chest, who was focused on reading him a good story in front of the fireplace, that lit up the living room with all its shades of red.  
Steve took his leather jacket off, laying it down on the sofa’s armrest. He managed to see, with the corner of his eye, Peter running and throwing himself on the living room’s carpet. 

“How is it going sweetheart? Did my two boys eat?” Sarah asked walking to the kitchen but, without waiting for an answer, the food was already served on the table. 

“Yes mom, we did.” 

“I didn’t!” Peter interrupted him and run towards the kitchen. Jumping on the chair he was ready to have lunch again. 

Steve tilted his head, watching Peter with an amused look. 

“Oh you didn’t?” 

“No daddy.” he smiled softly, knowing he actually had lunch at school and ate the ice-cream with Steve. He gave him his puppy eyes before diving the chicken wing into the ketchup. It ended being more sauce than the actual chicken. 

“He’s having dinner a little sooner.” Sarah defended Peter, observing him with so much love. Steve rolled his eyes although he was enjoying that partners in crime scene. 

Eating and playing filled up a good part of the evening. Peter had his chocolate and played happily with his superhero toys, bought by his grandma who had the patience of buying them monthly at the newsstand. It was a great evening, and they ended up watching a Christmas movie all together, cuddled up on the couch. Peter’s focus was all on the little elf on the tv, who was jumping all over, busy with wrapping up all the kids’ presents. Steve took advantage of that exact moment to talk with his mother about some stuff he had been thinking about. Especially about his job. Steve really needed his mother’s advice right now, but even more her support. Steve was an open book in Sarah’s hands, not one of her words was ever accidental. She knew exactly what needed to be said and how it needed to be said, to motivate her son. 

“What are your intentions now? ” she asked, carefully pouring hot water into two tea cups. Steve’s eyes glued on his cup’s bottom, lost in his thoughts, elbows resting on the kitchen table. He scrolled his shoulders followed by a long sigh, a mix of fatigue and sadness. “I don’t know mom. I really want to find a job that I like, I won’t say love ‘cause that’s quite hard.. But at least something that I enjoy.” he told her, raising his blue eyes on hers, of the same colour. 

“You already know this, but there are many jobs that prize military skills and don’t need physical activity” she said to Steve, who remained silent, lowering again his sight at hers. Dealing again with the military was something that Steve wasn’t ready for, especially after the shock he suffered and didn’t recover from. Sarah knew that, so she decided not to insist and offer him all her support, no matter his future decision. 

“I understand baby. It’s okay” she smiled at him, reaching for his hand on the table. He couldn’t help but look at her lovely smile that always made him feel safe and brought peace to his heart. “Whatever you need, you’ll find me.” Steve squeezed her hand before leaving a sweet kiss on it. “Thank you ma’. I hope I'll figure this out” he answered in a lower voice. “I know you will. You always do” 

Steve really hoped she was right. 

By the time they got home, the moon was shining in the sky and Peter was half asleep on Steve’s chest. Steve tried not to make too much noise while opening the heavy door. He managed to make it into Peter’s bedroom without creating a mess, which was likely to happen because of the dark. 

“Hey bean, let’s put our pjs on uh?” his whisper made Peter cuddle up against his chest, not willing to let go. Only when Steve pronounced the magic words he let go and jumped on the bed with the arms on the air, ready to be changed. 

“Nesquik! Yes!” Steve couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head. “You are incredible” it slipped out from Steve’s tongue while he was laughing. He then changed Pete’s clothes, dressing him in his soft pyjamas. “Now, you tuck in, while I get you the Nesquik” he said patting Pete’s back before he could jump underneath the covers. He smiled and stared at Steve with his big eyes, waiting for his cup of Nesquik. 

“’kay. Till’ later!” Peter exclaimed happily, and Steve could see his legs kicking under the sheets. “Till’ later baby” Steve said smiley, leaving the room to prepare the milk in the kitchen. 

They had this thing, this short phrase that they used when they had to be apart both for a long or little time, like this occasion. For Peter it was a way to be sure that his dad would always come back to him. Steve taught that to him. When Peter was younger, he struggled when it came to be left at school. That’s when Steve found this solution, a sort of magic word that could make Peter feel safe even when his dad wasn’t there. Then Peter understood that Steve would have been there if he needed him. 

The making of the milk with Nesquik lasted a few minutes, during which Steve’s thoughts couldn’t help but flow with any limit at all. He knew he didn’t have to make them get the upper hand or his anxiety would have kicked his ass in one second, and it surely wasn’t the time. That’s when he started to think about how tired he was of living with constant anxiety and fear. Not only his mind felt the exhaustion, it affected his whole body.  
Friends and family already suggested him to rely on therapy, but Steve was too proud to ask for any help. He had this, he could have gone through it by his own, so he thought. It’ easy to say, we think that not talking and keeping our deepest thoughts locked in our mind is a way to kill them, to control the pain. But we don’t, we just hide our monsters and they’re ready to hit us when we least expect it. 

Dealing with our demons is painful, it’s hard work, it means to touch the bottom, and not everyone is ready to deal with such a challenge. 

Steve was sure not. 

He poured the warm Nesquik into the Spider Man’s cup, Pete’s favourite, and he brought it to him in the bedroom, trying carefully not to spill any. 

“Here you are bud” Steve’s low voice made Peter smile happily, raising his hands towards him, with the intention of taking his cup. “Be careful, it’s hot” Steve warned him before handing out the cup. 

Peter released a sough of happiness when he finally had his hands around his hot Nesquik. Steve made himself comfortable next to Peter, laying on his little bed, which was really soft, and squeezed his baby between his big arms. 

“Can you tell me a story?” Peter asked after he finished sipping the milk and handed the cup to his father, who laid it down on the night stand. “Sure baby. Come” he said opening his arms to welcome Peter between them. He made sure Peter was all covered and comfortable before making him wandering to the world of imagination with a story. Therefore, peter collapsed asleep in a few minutes, still squeezing Steve’s shirt with his hand. 

Steve couldn’t help but watch his little boy sleeping peacefully, with his heart-shaped lips slightly half-closed. He lowered his head so that he could leave a kiss on his son’s head. “Sweet dreams baby” he whispered, caressing his curls with a hand. 

Very carefully, he stood up, tucking in Peter with the colourful sheets. Peter didn’t like waking up in a dark room, so Steve bought him a little airplane-shaped light placed near the door. Steve lit it on before leaving the room without closing completely the door. He didn’t think it was safe shutting the kid’s door, because if he needed help, or something happened, Steve was afraid not to hear him calling his name. He needed to be there for him all day and night long. Probably it was one of the many PTSD’s consequences, but he didn’t want to worry about that for now. 

Steve could now relax a little bit. Sure, he loved spending time with his baby, God he loved it. But, as all the human beings, he enjoyed sometime on his own. He usually watched something on the tv or read a book, which was the option he used to choose more often. Reading was his escapism, he loved being emotionally involved in the novel he read, and exploring their minds. As he couldn’t stand his own mind, he preferred analysing others. 

He jumped on the sofa with a beer in one hand and The Half-Blood Prince on the other hand. Fun fact about Steve? He absolutely loved Harry Potter. He had a huge collection of all the books and movies of the renowned saga. Peter and Steve enjoyed watching Harry Potter movies together, on a Saturday night, devouring a big bowl of popcorns. It happened, when Peter was younger, that he accidentally almost choked because of them, and that’s another story Peter doesn’t like to talk about or he’d have to watch his dad laugh about him endlessly. 

The book bewitched Steve, blue eyes running through inked pages, he was teleported into a world of magic, spell and imagination that, all of sudden, felt so real. 

But, as always, someone or something had to break the magic. A fast trill made Steve lift his head towards the phone next to him on the couch. His brows furrowed when he noticed who the contact was. 

He jumped on his feet in surprise, grabbing the little smartphone with his huge hands. His eyes stared right at the just sent message. He couldn’t believe it. He finally had news, finally, fortunately and as he desperately hoped, he received that message. He waited a lot, but it was worth. 

Bucky texted him. 

That meant he was safe and alive and that was all that mattered. 

Bucky met Steve during the army’s training, when they were younger. They served together for a few years before their paths took different directions, as we already know. It was hard to see each other now that Steve couldn’t be engaged in any kind of mission, but still, their friendship was as strong as the very first day. 

Bucky was that kind of friend that you can always relay on, doesn’t matter the reason, the time, place, parallel universe...Bucky would just be there for you. 

A few months before, precisely 6 months, Bucky was sent to Korea along with other American soldiers for an unknown duty. Maybe to Bucky it wasn’t such a mystery, but it sure had to be for the rest of the human race. 

The message was an invitation to finally see him and Natasha, his wife, at dinner the next day. At least that’s what the intention of the message was, since the arrangement of the words was a little different. It was something like this “Hi! Bet you thought I was dead! Nat did too, glad I didn’t find her with her lover. Bring the little monster tomorrow night for dinner or I'll kill you. Night night!”, attached a selfie of a long-hair bearded Bucky with a desperate redhead wife shedding a river of tears from her eyes. A last text followed: “Pls don’t show her this picture of she’s gonna stab me. I repeat DO NOT EXPOSE ME.” 

A trained soldier fearing his wife, Steve thought. Then he realised they were dealing with Natasha Romanoff so yes, it was quite fair to be scared. 

A little chuckle of relief and happiness, chased by a smile, sprouted on Steve’s lips, as he incredulously stared at those shiny words.


	2. Chapter 2

The following morning the ordinary routine waited just for Steve and Peter awakening. Breakfast, school, work, lunch and finally their reunion following Peter’s school day. 

Steve always tried to find something fun to do with his little one. Peter was a very energetic kid, who needed attention and any kind of activity to fill up his day, otherwise Steve would have probably been one of his boring tantrums’ victim. 

Since they were invited to dinner at Bucky & Nat’s, Steve thought it would have been fun to bake a chocolate cake to bring them as a thank gift. Peter loved the idea, especially because he fancied dirtying his hands with the ingredients. 

They went groceries to buy all that was required to give life to a decent cake. Actually, Steve was really skilled in the kitchen. He found himself almost obliged to learn cooking as nobody could do that in the house, but being trained by his mother, Sarah, when he was a little kid, was undoubtedly an immense benefit. 

All was well organised and settled on the kitchen counter as they were getting prepared to begin their adventure between flour and chocolate chips. 

The initial harmonious and productive atmosphere was soon interrupted by flying spoons, sticky goop all over their faces, flour covering the entire room, but they were having a blast. 

It wasn’t that enjoyable cleaning all that mess up afterwards, but fortunately Steve had his little assistant Peter to help him out. 

The cake actually smelled really good that made little Pete licking his lips, watching it grow in the oven. 

“So... do we have to watch it the whole time? I’m getting bored” Peter admitted, swinging his legs, sitting on the kitchen counter to watch inside the oven. 

Steve laughed, tickling his sides. “No bud, we don’t have to. It’s going to take a while” he explained his son, grabbing him from under the shoulders to place his little feet covered in slipper socks on the ground. 

“Can we watch Back to the future meanwhile?” Peter begged, little hands crossed as he plead his dad with big puppy eyes. 

Steve regretted not making him watch the cake rising for another hour, now he had no escape from the umpteenth watching of Back to the future. 

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” he asked followed by a roll of the eyes, soon lowered to meet the ones of that little man, who marvelled him with a flourishing smile on his lovable face. 

He really didn’t have one. 

\------

“So, which one do you want?” Steve asked impatiently, since they spent at least half an hour exploring Pete’s wardrobe. All the previous choices were rejected immediately, now the options were two: one black sweater with a big blue dinosaur on it, and another one with the NASA logo printed on the grey fabric. 

“I want the Spiderman one” Peter complained, relaxed on the soft mattress with the head stuck out the bed’s edge. 

Steve sighed, lowering his arms, previously in the air to show his kid the two sweaters. He gently tilted his head, trying to meet his big brown eyes. 

“No, I told you it’s taking a shower. Like you should have done this evening, by the way, I can smell your stinky feet from two hundred miles.” with a disgusted face he used the Dinosaur sweater to cover his nose, making Peter burst out in a noisy laughter. 

“You stink like cheese! So you go and take a shower daddy!” a raspberry left his lips before he could step on his feet on the bed and start jumping on it. Peter didn’t like cheese at all, so that was probably the biggest offence he could ever concoct, and it always managed to make Steve laugh. 

“Alright, but since I’m a big kid I understand that I gotta take a shower. Better, a bath” as soon as his lips worded that, Peter stopped jumping just to focus on him, with a sudden interested expression. 

“A bath?” 

“A bath. With bubbles. Lots of ‘em” 

“Well...maybe I stink a little” Peter gave his Pops the most precious smile ever, then leaned his arms towards him to be held, and Steve didn’t hesitate a split second. 

The sweaters were thrown on the bed to free both Steve’s arms in order to hold his baby. Peter got used by now to be careful jumping between his Pop’s arms. He knew the right one was still a little shaky and weak, consequently he had to use the left one as a support. Once in a while it happened that he got confused and unintentionally hurt his dad by pulling too harshly his arm to show him something, or by jumping on a relaxed, or sleepy Steve on the sofa. The occasions were multiples but after the temporary pain, Steve couldn’t do anything but forgive him. 

Steve tested the water with two fingers, to be sure the temperature was hot enough to prepare the bath. Peter started to get undressed and throw his clothes all around as soon as he stepped into the bathroom. 

“Alright bud, it’s ready. Jump on in” he spurred him with a hand gesture, letting Peter dunk in the hot water. 

Steve joined him a little after, facing his little man who was playing with the soap bubbles. Probably that bath wouldn’t have been able to host both of them in the future, as Peter was growing up every single day. 

Since he was wrapped in swaddling clothes, Steve accustomed him to bath with dad and there wasn’t a time where Peter refused to. It became one of his favourite things to do. Little sharks swam those artificial waves, villains were drowned under mountains of bubbles, even the floor regularly had a great shower too. That last part wasn’t as much appreciated as the other ones though. 

Steve knew it wouldn’t last forever, to play with his kid in the bubble bath, so he tried to enjoy and carve those moments, those memories, into his mind. 

“And he goes down!” Peter shouted, sinking a red car into the deep abyss of the bath with a remarkable strength, raising a big hot wave that was smashed against Steve’s face. Eyes were closed as the water met with them, but inevitably, trying to wipe it off with the already wet hands, was quite useless. 

Peter seemed not to worry about the developing mess around them as he splashed his hands and toys into the water, adding all the possible sounds effects to make it look more realistic to his imagination. 

While Peter was busy playing, Steve kept himself occupied massaging his little curly head with shampoo. Thanks to that he was able to give Peter’s hair a shape, so he made it look like a mohawk. He leaned back to watch his soaping hair and started laughing at the amusing view. Peter looked like a character from the Trolls cartoon. 

Peter tilted his head in confusion, looking up at his dad with his big brown eyes. 

“Why you laughing?” he asked with a little giggle, affected by his dad’s laugh who, meanwhile, managed to take the phone and capture the moment but wasn’t able to stop laughing. 

“Pops! Why are you laughing?” he pouted, crossing his arms on his chest. 

“Oh God. I’m so funny” 

“Pops!” Peter exclaimed again and only by then Steve showed him the taken picture. Pete tried not to laugh. He wanted to be mad and serious, it was time for revenge. 

“That’s not fair dad! Now it’s my turn. And you can’t run away ‘cause that means cheating” he pointed out before getting close to his dad and, hands full of shampoo, smacked them on his head. 

“Hey! Careful little guy. ‘Gonna hurt me with these strong arms” Steve smiled, with one eye opened to enjoy Pete’s focused expression on rubbing his blonde hair. 

“Sorry” he murmured, tongue stuck between teeth, usual when he was very concentrated, curling every Steve’s lock of hair with his little fingers. 

“Now you’re like auntie Nat with tubes on her hair” he said proudly, chin up, admiring his chef d’oeuvre. 

“Oh thank you baby.” he said with a smirk, figuring out that Peter was referring to Natasha doing her hair in the morning with the curlers. 

“I have to say... It’s even much better than mine!” he went through his curls with a hand, causing his precious face to relax right in front of him. He left a soft kiss above his right eye and Peter smiled happily before rolling into a ball and let his head lean against Steve’s chest. 

Once out the bath and wrapped into soft bathrobes, they were washing their teeth in front of the clear mirror. Steve had a towel around his waist, while Peter was all well covered with his dinosaur green bathrobe, standing on a little bench to the extent of watching himself in the mirror. 

They laughed meantime, making stupid faces at each other in the mirror. Maybe that was one of the reasons why Peter’s toothbrush was always all over it. But, you know, his smile was all that counted. 

Pete’s hair was finally dry, soft and perfumed as Steve left a kiss on it. 

“Oh wow! Peter is back! Damn, it’s been a while. There was just this little stinky little kid running around all day long. Don’t know him.” he grumbled, rolling his eyes playfully, willing to make the kid laugh, and so happened. 

“Ah daddy, you silly!” Peter shook his head in a very dramatic way, emphasising it with a long sigh. He jumped off the bench when he heard his dad’s words “Now you go and choose the sweater. ‘Imma be there in a minute honey, okay?” Steve watched his little feet running out the bathroom to reach the bedroom. 

Steve took some time to shave the growing beard, fix his hair, and wear his boxers before catching up with Peter who was hiding under his bed’s sheets. 

“Now who’s the silly one?” he laughed, taking a place right next to Pete’s side. Soft caresses on his baby’s back was all it took to see his little face pop up with a big smile from under the covers. The smile soon turned into surprise. 

“It’s been a while under that spiny beard!” he sang, quoting their previous conversation. 

“Stop being a smart ass” he managed to tickle him from above the covers and Peter jumped out immediately, already dressed up. At the end, he opted for the NASA one and Steve thanked God they had been saved from more hours of fitting room. 

When both the boys were finally ready to go, they settled in the car, headed to Bucky and Nat’s apartment. They were very excited to finally see them again, especially Bucky. 

Whenever they could, Peter and Steve spent a lot of time with Natasha, sometimes just to keep her company when she missed Bucky the most. Peter loved being with them, a sort of family developed during the years. Aunt Nat was so loving with the little kid, maybe Pete even saw in her a maternal figure to relay on and trust. A part of Steve hoped it was though. The concern for his baby to lack of something or someone, anguished him from the day he was able to welcome him between his arms. Therefore, if he needed a female figure that Steve wasn’t able to give him, then he was more than happy Natasha was able to. 

On the other hand there was Bucky who, at the beginning, struggled a little just to hold tiny Peter between his arms, which by the way, he refused absolutely to recognise as a fact. Surprisingly, but not that much, the two soon became buddies, maybe too much since Bucky, with zero parenting skills, managed to let Peter do things Steve specifically instructed not to. 

One night, when Steve had to stay late at work, it was Bucky’s turn to babysit Peter. We can all agree on the fact that, when Steve returned from work and saw his 1 year old toddler in a carboard box painted like an Air Force plane, hung on the ceiling fan, he almost had a heart attack. Thank God the ceiling wasn’t that high and they were having fun. 

But that’s what uncles are for, aren’t they? 

\------ 

“Pete I think they heard that” Steve laughed looking down at Peter who was energetically and enthusiastically ringing the door bell, waiting for the couple to open up. He didn’t pay too much attention to that though, at least they knew that the only one who could ring a bell like that was Peter. 

The door was shut open a few minutes later, revealing a fake concerned Natasha, looking down at the little human who stared at her with the biggest smile ever as an apology for the bothersome sound. 

“Ah, ah. I don’t accept troublemakers at my door.” Peter tilted his head sadly, but Nat snapped his head towards Steve, to whom addressed a hidden smile, happy to see him again. “Yeah I'm talking about you big guy, what you looking at? C’mon sweetie, I made you fries!” she smiled back at Peter, raising him in her arms. She couldn’t help but notice Steve holding the tray with the chocolate cake, her favourite, therefore she didn’t hesitate to take it and bring it inside. 

“Excuse you?” Steve complained, raising an eyebrow, but the two just kept laughing entering the warm house. He shook his head in amusement, lowering for a few seconds the eyes to the floor as he surpassed the doorstep and took off his hat. 

The moment his sight was uplifted one more time, a pair of grey eyes were laying on him. 

They stared at each other in religious silent for what must have seemed hours, but were actually seconds. Not even the pressure of their breath could have been felt in the air, as everything turned still and peaceful. 

A few moments later, Steve’s lips curved into a smile watching his best friend with crossed arms, waiting for a reaction. 

“Yeah I know. I always look better.” 

They could feel Natasha rolling her eyes from the kitchen and Steve did the same before stepping forward and pull Bucky into a tight hug. There wasn’t that much talk during that, but Steve felt the need to argue what he previously said. 

“Anyway, you actually look like a nomad. Stop acting all sassy.” he playfully pushed him out the hug before they both chuckled like little kids. 

“Whatever. I’m glad I'm not a boring muscular blondie. You even cut your beard... I can’t stand you anymore, if I'm being honest.” he continued mumbling, dragging his long legs to the living room where the dinner was served. 

“We were twins before dude.” he continued. 

Steve frowned, a little confused but amused. “What? No...no, we weren’t.” 

“Yes we were.” 

Silence. 

“No, we were not.” 

“We were and I was the good-looking one, that’s why you deny it. Coward.” 

Steve was about to get along with that confusing conversation but luckily Peter was able to stop that, jumping into Bucky’s arms. 

“Oh my god, how many fries did you eat? You’re getting fat little guy.” Bucky panted, pretending to have trouble lifting Peter’s tiny body. That made Peter melt between chuckles, laying like a dead body to dramatize it more, between his big arms. 

“I ate all of ‘em! Nothing for you beardy-beard." Bucky's face turned in confusion at that nickname and couldn’t help but laugh. Steve immediately glanced at Natasha, but she made it clear that he didn’t really ate all the fries. 

“You come to my house, steal my wife with your puppy eyes, call me beardy-beard, and have the guts to eat all my fries!” he exclaimed incredulous, with eyes wide open and glued to his. 

Peter smiled shyly, looking at his eyes like enchanted before breaking the silence with a “Yup”. 

And they all burst out laughing. 

Natasha, when Peter was invited to eat at their house, always prepared a huge meal with all that could whet that kid’s appetite. Bucky was pretty sure she learnt how to cook just for Peter, so it was probably thanks to him that their family didn’t starve to death. 

Peter was listening carefully with dreamy eyes to Bucky’s story about his mission, dodging all the excessively violent or disturbing details he actually had witnessed. 

“But that’s all imma tell you bud. It was a secret mission” he whispered to his ear, patting against his little shoulder. Peter’s response was more than understandable, as he was a very curious and intelligent kid, wanting to have more knowledge about the story. His little head was supported by his petite hand, with the elbow resting on the table’s surface. “What? I want more!” 

“It wouldn’t be a secret anymore sweetie” Nat said, touching his little pink nose, she then turned to face Bucky who was sitting next to her. 

“Now, while Peter and I are going to make a hot chocolate, you and body builder right there are going to take wood for the fireplace.” she said with a smile while Peter, at command, run and sat on her lap. 

His smart eyes observed Natasha’s plate that was empty as all the others, but a piece of cake alone on a side woke up his stomach. He legitimately thought to furtively protract his little hand to steal the little piece and eat it with enthusiasm. He was soon caught up by his dad who gave him a quick wink before standing on his feet simultaneously as Bucky. 

He wasn’t as much unbothered as Steve was, since he had no intention of going to their cold garage down the street to get some useless wood. He didn’t realise he just mouthed those words and Natasha was ready to beat his ass in a fragment of second. 

“I’m leaving, I'm leaving “he hurried jumping into his grey jacket, murmuring some incomprehensible words under his breath. 

The scene was quite comic and Steve, as always, couldn’t hold a laugh. 

The redhead smiled watching them leaving the house, dragging their feet loudly on the parquet. “Have fun boys!” 

“Bring wood daddy! ‘Till later!” Peter shouted happily, not moving from Nat’s chest, where his little body was all cuddled up. 

The cold air pierced their bones as they stepped out the warm house. Shivers run through their whole bodies as they tried to wrap more in their jackets. The moon was already up in the sky, time had passed quickly with such a nice company and they always loved to set on the fire to enjoy it all together. 

Their steps left crunches on the dry leaves and soft snow as they walked on a dark long street that would have led them down to a cramped green space, that was now barren and surely not green because of the freezing temperatures. 

They walked across that street talking about everything and anything, spending a very good time together. Bucky had this weird ability to look perfectly normal after a war mission, not giving any signs of turmoil at all. But they’ve been knowing each other for a very long time and Steve knew that not so deep down he was extremely wounded. As Steve was after a very hard mission, as they both did after a rescue in Asia, as every soldier did afterwards. 

Steve didn’t want to ask him about the mission though, he knew that he would have talked about it in a more detailed way than Peter’s heroic story, when he felt like it. It wasn’t his will to put him under pressure. 

“You know... I missed you Buck.” Steve left those kind-hearted words slip out his mouth with no intention of taking them back at all. He had no problem showing his best friend love and we have to say that Steve was not easy to crack on any other business, but when it came to his family, his heart was completely exposed. 

Bucky turned his head just a little to watch Steve with a little smile on his lips. 

“I know you did” he just said, and Steve was ready to roll his eyes but didn’t when Bucky continued his sentence. 

“I’ve been missing you too. You know...it would have been better to have you there with me. I miss to have you pal’ by my side” he smiled softly, patting his shoulder with a hand and shrugging it a little. 

Steve kept silent, walking by his side. He couldn’t blame him but he couldn’t even blame himself. When he was on duty he remembered the comforting feeling of having his best friend by his side, it was one more source of strength. 

A friendship born on a battlefield inevitably creates an emotional bond that it’s even hard to explain with words. Paradoxically, war, that tears people apart, also brings them together and make them stick together for a lifetime. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there” he sighed in a lower voice, eyes wandering around him, now at the black sky, now at the trees along the streets, now at his shoes touching the ground. 

Bucky shook his head, reluctant, listening carefully to Steve’s words. 

“Steve I just said I missed you, not that I want you there. As a fact, I don’t.” he admitted, looking back at him. 

“You have a kid. You must be by his side. I think you have the coolest job in the world” he smiled at him, managing to take all his attention as Steve pointed his blue eyes in his. 

He seemed to think thoroughly about what Bucky just told him as he didn’t wink a single time until he decided to speak. 

“Yeah.. I think I do have the coolest job in the world” Steve repeated, smiling truthfully at him, before their talk was interrupted by the sudden reach of the garage down the road. 

They stopped right in front of the tiny structure, waiting for Bucky to take the key, open it and take the so desired wood. It got a little complicated when Bucky realized he forgot the key at home. 

“How?! Bucky you had one job.” 

“You could have reminded me!” 

“What...I’m not your wife!” 

“Aren’t you?” 

They just stared at each other even more confused than before. Bucky was able to shift every conversation into the most chaotic one ever. 

“I have an idea. Actually, Nat had it. She hid a copy of it behind the garage” he quickly said, running behind the garage. 

Steve couldn’t believe his ears, they almost panicked because they didn’t have a key while Bucky knew that a copy existed. 

He rolled his eyes in exhaustion, but his attention was all back on following Bucky’s figure behind the garage when he heard his exclamation. 

“Oh shit” Bucky pouted breathless and Steve could see him becoming completely still while watching something hidden in the dark. 

A weird feeling began to spread from his stomach to his limbs, making his legs move towards his speechless friend. He walked fast to the dark corner, and when he was finally next to Bucky, nothing could be seen in the darkness. 

“What is it? I don’t see-” he froze when his sight adjusted to the dark and the image of a laying rigid body on the floor was revealed. 

The two peeked at each other hurriedly before looking back to the man on the ground. His head was abandoned on his shoulder, unconscious, with the rest of the body completely rigid, certainly for the snow that covered his clothes but that was slowly being painted by the man’s hot blood soaking from his wounds. 

The man was motionless, even when Steve leaned down to ensure he was still breathing, his chest didn’t give a single hint of signs of life. 

“He’s dead” Bucky simply said as he was pretty sure about that deal, but Steve refused even to think that. 

“Stop, we don’t know that yet” he snapped, eyes wondering, exploring all the man’s body, trying to find any kind of evidence that could ensure he was alive. Steve rested his head on the man’s chest waiting for a heartbeat. 

The following seconds were probably the most stressful he ever experienced. 

The deafening silence that was tearing apart his ears, was finally broken by a feeble heartbeat. Steve immediately exhaled, like he previously stopped breathing, and slid a hand under the man’s head. 

“He’s alive. Help me, we need to take him to the hospital” he ordered with firm voice and Bucky, as the soldier he is, rushed in his aid, helping him to move the body inside the garage where Bucky’s second car was parked, considering they didn’t use it that much. 

“I really hope this beauty still works” Bucky said to himself, jumping on the front seat while Steve settled carefully the injured man on the back seats. He made him lean his head on his lap before closing the car’s door. When he got to wrap him up around Steve’s own leather jacket, Bucky managed to turn on the car and they rushed immediately to the nearest hospital. 

“Put the heat on, he’s frozen to death” Steve noticed, not surprisingly, as under the street’s warm lights the man’s face looked almost of a light-blue colour, and that didn’t look hopeful at all. 

They both dealt with death, with dying friends on the field or in the infirmary, by reason of they could recognise if a comrade’s life conditions were favourable to life or death. 

“The heat? This car is old Steve I don’t think..” he slowed down to press all the possible buttons on the car, till a wave of cold air overwhelmed them all. 

“Bucky what the fuck, I told you he’s cold and you turn on cold air?” 

“Yes I heard you, I'm trying! I told you it was an old car!” they shouted to each other not even understanding what the other one was saying because of the panic and adrenaline rushing through their veins. 

Steve looked down on his lap, guessing what would have been the easiest way to warm the chilled body. He pulled out his warm hands from the gloves and kindly cupped the man’s cheeks, trying to boost his body’s low temperature. 

In that moment he realised how familiar his face looked, but he surely wasn’t someone he knew personally. A significant scratch crossed his cold forehead, one more was now covered under Steve’s hand and a purplish bruise seemed always getting bigger around his closed tired right eye. 

The lights of the hospital welcomed the three men in the car that rushed to the entry in no time. Two nurses immediately helped them, moving the unconscious body, that was being carried in by the two soldiers, on a stretcher. 

The two soon disappeared behind a grey door with two shutters and leave the rescuers on their feet in a white, sad, hospital hallway. 

“Welcome home, Buck” Steve breathed out almost in a whisper, chest raising and lowering irregularly due to his heavy breaths, eyes still on the closed door. 

Curled up in an uncomfortable blue hospital chair, Steve covered his face with his cap as the adrenaline rush faded away and the fatigue overwhelmed both him and Bucky, who was focused on his crackers. 

From the long hallway, an echo of someone walking towards them, animated their souls, as their heads were lifted just to observe a pretty upset Natasha, walking with a curly dumpling sleeping on her shoulder. 

Steve’s facial expression immediately softened at his son’s sight. Soon was standing on his feet and, with a little run, Natasha was right in front of him. 

“Oh my baby” Steve murmured, tending his arms to welcome sleepy Peter between them, but Natasha immediately stopped him with her free hand. 

“You’re not getting close to this kid like that” her finger on Steve’s shirt. He didn’t notice the bloodstains now tarnishing his grey sweater, and when he did, he swore under his breath. 

The thought of his leather jacket popped up in his mind as a mean to cover the bloody mess, but it had been used to cover the injured man’s ice-cold body, so Steve was empty handed. 

Natasha noticed his struggle and, willing to help, she wrapped Peter around her jacket causing the little one to whine softly, still very sleepy. 

“Thank you Nat. I’ll bring it back tomorrow” he rapidly apologised adjusting in a comfortable position Peter on his chest, head resting carefully on his shoulder. He left a soft kiss on his forehead and, almost as Peter recognised his dad during his sleep, he smiled too, clinging to him. 

Bucky, as soon as he saw his wife, run next to her, placing a kiss on her lips and his own jacket around her shoulders to keep her warm. 

“What happened? You guys scared me” Natasha scolded, hands on her hips after one was lowered from being placed on her heart, that was surely beating like crazy. 

Natasha was a strong woman, nothing could make her loose her focus or break her down. At least that’s what she used to show, but they all knew she had a golden heart that cared truthfully and deeply about them. 

Bucky took the time to explain her everything that happened, Steve was surprised he remembered all the details and Natasha seemed very intrigued by that epic sounding narration. 

Steve, quite absent-minded, was busy rocking Peter in his arms but he was exhausted and his right arm started to hurt slightly. Something suddenly caught his attention and caused him to raise his head to the small hung tv in the corner of the waiting room. 

A lady was reporting the latest news during the night service but the words couldn’t be heard as the volume had been turned down completely. Steve’s eyes still didn’t move from the monitor and, as the different images linked with the news went by, a specific one made his heartbeat stop for what must have been the fourth time in one night. 

“Bucky...Buck” Steve repeated, shaking a little his friend who was still reciting their adventure to Natasha. When he got his attention, with a nod of the head at the direction of the tv, all their eyes were now staring at it. 

“Isn’t that the guy we brought here?” Steve asked with an evident questioning and confused expression. The tv was showing a very well-dressed man, with a big “Missing” quote on top of his picture, and it seemed strange it was the same almost dead-man they rescued. He surely didn’t look as elegant as he was in the shown picture. 

It took a while for Bucky to recognise him too. 

“He is. Is he a missing person?” this last asked, slightly worried about how the situation, just tragic at the beginning, started to become creepier by time passing. 

“He’s not just a missing person guys. That’s Tony Stark” Natasha stated, trying to make them realise what was really going on. The two boys faces didn’t show any understanding signals at all which made her open her mouth in shock. 

“The tower guy?” Bucky tried, feeling oddly embarrassed. 

“Yes, the tower guy, Tony Stark. The billionaire and tremendously handsome genius” Bucky looked at her with a quite jealous attitude. 

“Who apparently disappeared. And you two rescued him.” Natasha continued, sight moving from the tv monitor to their eyes and back. 

For Steve it was too much information, he didn’t even try to comment on it. 

“Daddy?” Peter mumbled, eyes still closed and his little warm body still cuddled up on Steve’s chest. He immediately turned his head to face the little one. 

“I’m tired” he continued with a very soft and tired voice. 

“I’m sorry baby. We’re leaving okay? I’m sorry I couldn’t get you to bed sooner.” with gentle strokes behind his head, he tried to put him to sleep. 

Natasha, who heard their brief conversation, nodded in agreement. 

“Let’s go get some rest alright?” 

They left the hospital together, every single one of them dipped in their own thoughts, especially Steve, whose mind was wondering in many places at the same time, but the main core was that mysterious injured man, Tony Stark. 

He had a weird feeling about him. He was shaken by it, but intrigued at the same time. He wanted to know, to understand the secrets hidden by the speechless man that before was laying on his lap. 

What Steve didn’t know was, that he would have, sooner than expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, i hope you enjoyed this chapter. I tried to publish it as soon as possible but i've been sick and busy with school, so it took a little longer than expected.  
> Anyways, thank you for your time!  
> xx,S.


	3. Chapter 3

A ray of sunshine burnt on Steve’s cheek with a sweet warmth caressing his soft skin. The sun was rising up in the sky, piercing the houses’ windows and lightening them with its glow, while the day began for workers and students, moms and dads, seniors and teenagers. 

Steve’s sleep was disrupted by that sudden heat that made his eyes slowly open to adjust to the light. He needed a few seconds to wake up his sleepy mind that was wandering a few moments before in the dreams’ universe. 

The sunlight tore apart the shadow that shroud the room along the right side of the bedroom, highlighting the bed where Steve was laying peacefully together with a dusty wooded nightstand, supporting an old alarm that marked 8:15 in the morning. 

It took him at least five seconds to realise how late they were. Peter had to be at school at 8:30 and Steve was supposed to be at work right after he left his kid at school. 

“Oh fuck” that exclamation guided him out the bed, kicking away the warm sheets that covered his body. He jumped into the first clothes that he found leaning on the chair next to his desk before rushing into Peter’s room. 

“Hey Pete, baby” he quickly said, scrolling that little body under the covers. 

“We gotta go buddy, we’re really late. Daddy overslept” Peter was knocked out the sheets by his Pops’ strong arms and sat on the bed, his sleepy eyes still closed. 

He murmured something displeased, rubbing his left eye with the pyjama’s sleeves. Steve felt guilty for waking up his baby in such a gruff way, but they wouldn’t have been able to make it in time with their usual morning routine that involved lots of cuddles. 

This time Peter had to do without them and wake up really quickly. Steve managed to pick up in a few seconds Pete’s clothes from the wardrobe. He then walked towards Pete who was falling again on the soft mattress, but Steve hindered it, undressing him from his pyjamas. 

Pops quickly made Peter’s little head slid into the neck of the shirt and of the sweater that was meant to keep him warm enough, and due to that sudden motion, Peter’s curls were even more disheveled than before. 

Peter was soon all dressed up, coat, scarf and beanie all included, so he was technically ready to go to school, but that poor kid was very sleepy. It wasn’t because he didn’t get enough sleep, but Peter couldn’t handle the sudden awakening. He was going to have a very rough morning, probably, since he was very discombobulated. 

“Daddy, what about breakfast?” Peter whimpered while his dad tried to fix his curls in the best way possible at that moment. He was soon between his arms, head resting on his shoulder while they headed quickly towards the bathroom. 

“I’ll get something for you baby, Now do me a favour and wash your face and your teeth while I get you something okay?” a kiss was placed on Pete’s forehead before Steve could walk out the bathroom and run into the kitchen. 

Luckily, they could dispose of the microwave, which came out really handful in such a rush. Steve didn’t want Peter to begin the day without a full belly, it wasn’t even that healthy for a kid. Sarah always told him “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.” and that he wanted to teach to his kid as well. 

With the timer on two minutes, he warmed some milk into a cup, and during the waiting he grabbed a croissant from the right shelf, wrapping it around a napkin. 

Peter’s slow walk on the floor echoed between the walls, swaying on his feet into the kitchen. He just stayed still, right there, his gaze following his Pop’s movements as he run from one side of the kitchen to another. He stopped suddenly, with the cup of milk in one hand, the other one holding the croissant, and Pete’s schoolbag on his left shoulder. 

“Let’s go baby, come on” he urged, welcoming him between his arms after one of them was freed thanks to Peter, who decided to hold the hot milk with his little hands. 

Steve rushed with the little bundle on his chest, down the apartment’s stairs, and thankfully the cup of milk was protected by a suitable covering so that it was impossible for it to be spilled out. 

Peter started to enjoy his croissant once he was well settled on his booster seat. 

“Be careful bud, it’s hot” Steve warned him, watching Pete sipping the hot milk from the cup. He hurried to the front seat, checking on the time that already marked the time Pete was supposed to be at school. 

“Alright, you ready for some Fast and Furious style?” he asked, trying to make it sound fun to Peter, who was very focused on his breakfast, but as soon as he saw his father smiling at him, he couldn’t help but smile back, toddling with his small legs. 

The car was soon speeding on the streets, but Steve was always sure to pay enough attention to the road and the speed limit since he was carrying the most important person of his life in the backseats of the car. 

Peter aroused him to go faster, looking excited outside the car’s window at the vehicles running next to them, but Steve clearly couldn’t satisfy him or they would have found themselves involved in a very serious accident. 

School was a delightful mirage for Steve, who parked right in front of it after a few minutes of looking for a parking lot. 

When he helped Peter getting out of the car, breakfast ended, he noticed the teacher was already inside since he didn’t see her waiting outside for the kids. 

Therefore, Steve had to take Peter inside the school. The front door was opened and, once they were in, Peter guided his dad to his class. 

The long corridor, on which different doors directly lie, was all painted in a pastel yellow and many children’s drawings of all sizes and shapes were hanging against it. 

The silence was distorted by the far little laughs, inaudible conversations that were clearly the kids’ as they just entered their classes and didn’t set up, not yet. That comforted Steve who understood that they weren’t that late, contrarily to what he really thought. 

“It’s here daddy!” Peter exclaimed, pulling him right in front of a wooded door with a little window on it. Steve could see the dark hair teacher rifle through some papers on the desk waiting for her students to sit down. 

A knock on the door made Mrs. Rambeau’s attention lay on the door as she walked towards it before shutting it open. 

“Oh! Mr. Rogers, I wasn’t expecting you today.” the surprise on her face was soon replaced by a smile, looking down at Peter. 

“I’m so glad you’re here Pete. Go take your seat” she smiled, patting gently on his back before Peter could run next to one of his friends. Then, her sight was back on Steve’s who was already apologising for being late. 

“No need to apologise, it happens” she said with a sort of nonchalance, waving her hand in a casual gesture. 

“Actually, I'm glad you’re here. I wanted to talk to you.” she continued, arms resting on her body. 

Steve’s eyes were now, more than ever, focused on hers. The worst thoughts raided to his mind, that same one wandering into places it shouldn’t be. 

He worried Peter was in trouble, or he wasn’t doing his best at school, though Steve always made sure he did his homework in time. Peter never had that kind of problem, he loved studying and exploring new fields of knowledge and that’s one of the reasons why, probably, he was a very smart kid. 

He knew everything about dinosaurs, there wasn’t a question he didn’t know the answer. Once Steve had to listen to a 2 hours long conference about dinosaurs explained by Mr. Peter in person who was pretending to be a teacher. 

It was fun for Pete, and Steve enjoyed seeing him that happy, he was always amaze by how much he knew. 

“You don’t have to worry” Mrs. Rambeau chuckled, followed by a smile, when she saw Steve’s face turn pale like a ghost. 

“You know, it has been two years now of observing Peter in school and I have to say this.. He's really smart. More than any kid at this age, in fact sometimes it happens that he gets bored because he already knows what we’re teaching him. It’s really impressive Mr. Rogers. I love the kid and it would be a waste for him to be here.” 

Steve was listening carefully to her, suddenly all his previous worries were replaced by a sense of relief and a kind of astonishment. Steve sure knew that his little man was smart, but he didn’t know he was that kind of smart until the teacher made the following suggestion. 

“There’s an excellent school right here that could give him a much better education than what we can actually offer.” she admitted, a slightly gloomy smile painted on her tanned skin. 

“I can give you the file with all the necessary information if you’re interested. I think it would benefit Peter.. And he might find some kid that loves learning as much as he does.” she smiled, showing her white teeth, hope in her eyes for Steve to just consider her offer. 

Steve hadn’t metabolised it all yet, so he just stared at her speechless, mouthing silent words with his lips. 

“I umh.. Yeah sure I think I'll give it a look” he finally talked, thanking her with a gentle nod of the head. As she had his approval, she disappeared for a few moments in the class, and came out with the file looking like she had it ready for a long time now. 

She handed it over to Peter’s dad before he could take it between his hands. 

“Thank you, Mrs Rambeau. I really appreciate this. Now I gotta run to work, but thank you, I’ll read this later.” 

They shook hands and exchange kind smiles before their duty called. 

Steve left the school in hurry, sliding the file into the dashboard once he got in the car. He noticed that he was at least fifteen minutes late: he could hear his boss reproachful words echoing in his eardrums. 

Once he stepped inside the work’s place, everyone was already with their eyes glued on the computer, performing the exact same motions as every other day. Steve couldn’t understand how he managed to work so mechanically and monotonously every single day of his life. 

The only reason he didn’t quit already was, of course, Peter. 

Soon he was sitting on his usual spot too, and luckily his boss thrown him just a disapproving glare, but he let the man doing his job peacefully. 

Right after the boss was out of sight, Steve brought out the file, sliding it on the desk full of other papers, so that it wouldn’t have been a problem to hide it, just in case. 

Despite his job included working with the computers, Steve wasn’t that good at it, he found technology somewhat hostile, though he couldn’t fully understand why. Peter, just at seven years old, was able to use it more efficiently than him. 

His fingers were typing the name of the school, Einstein Gifted School NYC, and it took milliseconds for the school’s site to pop up. He gave a quick look to the information on the previously offered file, but he needed more and he hoped he was going to find something on the internet. 

He read about the year’s different programs and half of them he didn’t even understand. He learned that a test must be taken by the kid to ensure that he has the right requirements to be accepted, and that the most skilled teachers would take care of them to provide the right education to such smart kids. 

Steve was overwhelmed by a sudden sense of fear and concern. 

What if all of that would put Peter under too much pressure? 

He didn’t want him to turn out as an overworked kid and he knew they would squeeze his little brain willing to give birth to a sort of genius, and Steve didn’t wish that for his baby. 

On the other hand, he knew that Peter would enjoy more school if the range of subjects was wider and medley. He often came home muttering how the school’s day was boring due to the repetitive classes, but it was the first time that Steve actually considered the problem. 

School should be fun or at least enjoyable. Sure, Peter never complained about going to school, he liked being with his friends and teachers, but it was no secret that both his mind and fantasy would have appreciated more challenging classes. 

Right at the time when Steve’s thoughts seemed to clear up, his eyes leaned on the tuition fees of the well-known school, and his heart jumped inside of his chest. 

If he sold a kidney, he might have been able to pay half of one year’s fees. 

A sadness, almost melancholic, creeped through his entire body spreading from the heart. 

He didn’t know how an ordinary parent could ever afford that kind of payment, but, at the same time, Steve wished he could. He wished he was able to give everything to his baby, he wished he could give Pete all he asked for, but it wasn’t possible. 

Peter was a happy kid, he always had his precious smile on that little face framed by a crown of curls. He was able to throw one of the worst tantrums when he wanted to though, but as a whole he was an angel. 

That’s the reason why Steve wanted to give him all, to give him the world. He couldn’t deny to such an amazing kid what he wanted and he felt guilty because he couldn’t offer him what a rich parent could. He couldn’t organise big parties for his birthday, or buy him the latest Legos that he enjoyed so much building. 

He couldn’t, but Peter deserved it. 

He deserved the world, and if Steve could give his life to ensure that, he would have. 

The internet tab was soon closed as Steve couldn’t even think about affording that school for his son. 

He run his hands over his face, giving himself a few minutes to clear his mind, but the opposite was happening. 

The school seemed really cool and he blamed himself. He blamed himself and he wasn’t going to stop ‘till he found a solution. 

Why couldn’t he give his son what he deserved? What kind of father does that? What kind of father isn’t able to give his son a proper education? What when Peter will ask about college? He couldn’t afford a primary school for little geniuses, let alone a college for those ones. But he couldn’t refuse to let his kid go to college, he could never. 

Steve was already saving money for Peter’s college, but sure was that if he ever used that for the primary school, nothing would be left for college. 

In conclusion, there was no way Steve could let Peter go to that school. 

He felt like he had just failed one of the father’s task: making sure that the kid had the best pf everything. 

He wasn’t able to do that, and he probably never will. 

Before it was time to pick Peter up from school, Steve needed to deal with the boring stuff, like paying the bills that every single time emptied his wallet. 

He walked out the bank managing with a little run to cross the busy road and reach his car, but before he could get inside, his eyes met a shiny shop window right next to his parked vehicle. 

His eyes recognised the refined logo on the shop, reading “Come nei sogni”, and surely pronouncing it really incorrectly with the little voice inside his head. 

It was a tavern where they served different kinds of italian recipes, not the fanciest ones, but as we all know there’s no bad italian food, especially if made by italians themselves. 

The place was not a new discovery for Steve. He remembered the days, when he was younger, the sun was bright and hot, shining out the windows, and as every undisciplined kid, he needed to jump school with his friends in such a wonderful day. 

They would meet all together near school and, if they were lucky enough for the teachers not to find out, they run as fast as they could, till their breaths, weighted by their laughs and by the adrenaline rushing through their veins, told them to stop. 

Once far away from school, they would slow down until their feet stood still on the ground, hands leaning on their knees in the attempt to catch their breath. They looked into each other eyes, those young, vivid, full of energy, bright eyes, and laughed, the joy echoing in the silent morning streets. 

Then, when their tummies started to murmur in search of food to be filled with, “Come nei sogni” was there to solve the problem. They would eat a bunch of coccoli, or cannoli while laying on the warm green grass of a park, under a towering tree, and dreamt about their future. 

Steve lips curved into a smile, remembering the old times and how things have changed, years flown by and he didn’t seem to notice. We never perceive the passing of the time until we actually take a break from our overloaded days and recollect our memories. 

It might even be a way not to let ourselves fade away. Remembering our past, the steps we took to reach the place we’re now. That’s how we won’t forget where we came from. That’s how we keep our feet on the ground. 

Sometimes the past can hurt, it leaves scars on your skin, and Steve knew it pretty well. He knew how bad it was to revoke all the pain and the struggles. He hated to know how it felt to starve, to be locked into an old dark cell, to be threatened, to have your flesh lacerated to the bones. 

Maybe there was a reason behind all that suffering. Maybe there was. Steve had the belief that everything happened for a reason. 

But he didn’t find it for that, not yet. 

He stepped inside the shop, smelling immediately the familiar scent of pizza’s dough. A young lady was behind the desk, and a shy little smile painted on her face as she saw Steve walking in. From that Steve understood that she must have been very young, maybe the daughter of the couple that owned the place and used to serve him when he was a kid. They were younger too, at that time. 

“Good evening. How can I help you?” she said and Steve could tell she was swinging on her feet with the way her ponytail moved behind her head. 

“Hi. Umh, I'd like a few of these” Steve got closer, pointing with a finger a tray full of coccoli, fried dollops of bread dough that he always loved. 

“Sure. Take away?” she asked, ready to fill the little bag with those delights. 

“Yeah, I’ll take ‘em for my kid at school” he explains, eyes shining just at the thought of his baby. 

She smiled too, nodding with her head. 

“I’ll get you the fresh ones then, so he’s gonna have them warm enough. They’ll come out the oven in two minutes” the girl says kindly, making Steve raise his eyes to her. 

“That’d be nice. Thank you” Steve exclaimed, thankful, with a smile on his face. He took advantage of those moments of waiting to look around him. 

The place was very similar to what Steve remembered. The interior design was very rustic, with some touches of modern but it still created a very homelike atmosphere. Down the hall a few tables, Steve spotted five of them, each one encircled by two or more wooded chairs that were matching with the tables. 

They had menus on them, along with a little set of candles of different shapes and sizes that fit perfectly and helped warming up the environment. 

To separate the dining area from the entrance, an arch made of light red bricks framed the hall, making it look like a picture, or a paint, to the client’s eyes. 

A fireplace was placed on the left side of the dining hall, Steve couldn’t see the entire shape of it, but he noticed it was extinguished as the warmth of the morning sun was still in the air. 

He then looked back at the girl, behind whose back was hung a rustic console, playing softly an italian song that Steve didn’t know and didn’t actually understand, as usual. 

“May I ask you something?” Steve asked the girl with red long hair behind the desk and, when she nodded with the head, he continued. 

“Are you the daughter of Mr and Mrs. Giordano?” he hesitated a moment trying not to mess up the surname but, by her little smile, he could tell he didn’t succeed. 

“I am. I’m a senior in high school and during my free time I help mom here. Dad passed away a few years ago” she said, as she said it so many times before, without letting that smile run away from her face. 

Steve felt immediately guilty just for asking that question. He should’ve minded his own business, he didn’t want the girl to be saddened because of him. 

“I’m sorry for your lost.” he said, meaning it, trying to support her with a smile. 

“I can tell mom you say hi. You are..?” she said while filling the little bag with the order that Steve asked for. 

“Steve. Steve Rogers” he smiled a little, taking his wallet from his jeans’ pocket. 

“I don’t think she’ll remember me. I was a kid when I used to skip school and come here” a laugh left his lips and, meanwhile, he leaned forward to hand her the right amount of money before grabbing the little bag. 

“Don’t do that though.” he gave her a gaze, making the young girl laugh. 

“I’ll try. I’m Wanda by the way” they shook hands before Steve realised how strange it was for an Italian girl not to have an italian name. But it’s the twenty first century, it wasn’t a big deal anymore. 

“Nice to meet you Wanda. Thank you, have a nice day” he said goodbye to the young lady before getting back in the cold air of New York. 

He hurried in the car before he could speed up on the grey streets. 

“Daddy!” the shout of little Peter running towards his dad from the school’s exit could have been heard from at least two blocks away. 

To that sound, Steve instinctively let out a beautiful laugh and lowered to wait for Peter to crush into his arms. 

The impact took place and Peter found himself buried into his Pops arms. His little feet were soon in the air and his face was tortured by million kisses, which made him melt into Steve’s arms. 

“Oh, how did my baby did today?” Steve stopped the kisses just to look at Peter’s little face on which a large smile was born, but he couldn’t help it and Peter was soon a victim of all the cuddles once again. 

“Pops! I can’t speak like this!” the little one tried to complain, which took him a little time since he was always interrupted by his own laugh. 

Steve finally decided to stop snuggling Peter, and put him back on the ground. 

“Here, I got you a snack” he patted his little chest before handing out the little bag with coccoli. Peter grabbed him immediately, his head sneaking in with his big eyes to explore the contents. 

A long “oh” of both surprise and happiness run out his mouth as one hand was taking out one of those fried delicacies and directing it to his mouth. 

“How is it? Do you like it?” Steve asked, watching Peter chewing with enthusiasm showing him the thumb up, too busy eating to answer him. 

“Good. Now give me one” he stole one of them from the bag Peter was squeezing between his little hands. Steve saw the gaze Peter thrown at him, offended by the stealing, but Steve pretended not to see that. 

When Peter finished his snacks, they were ready to head home. As usual Peter probably had homework to do, so the faster they did that, sooner they could chill together. 

“You got homework Pete?” Steve questioned, looking at him before he could start driving home. 

“I did most of it during break time, but I have to finish to read a text.” he snorted, head thrown back in a very dramatic way that made Steve chuckle. 

“Oh poor baby, such a hard work is left to do” he incited, releasing a long sigh to play Peter’s game. This same one enhanced the pathos of the action slapping a hand on his own forehead. 

“It talks about a football player..and I don’t like football so I don’t like it” he stated, crossing his arms on his chest. 

Steve laughed hearing those words, and shook his head in resignation. 

Peter never was a fan of sports, especially the ordinary ones that his classmates used to play, such as football or basketball. He loved running and making messes though, if that can be considered a sport. 

Steve taught him to swim when he was only four, so at least that he could do, put Peter was never really interested in playing any sport. He largely preferred to watch a movie with his dad, building Lego castles, playing at the park or reading a book about science or dinosaurs. 

“We know that Nerdy.” no wonder why Steve nicknamed him like that now. 

“But it doesn’t mean you don’t have to read that. You need to learn a little bit about everything in life, even things you don’t like.” Peter was listening carefully at Steve’s explanation, his head slightly tilted to the right, so that he was able to look at his dad on the driver’s seat. 

“But why do I have to if I don’t like ‘em... I don’t wanna be a footballer..” Pete pouted, his face turning into disappointment. 

“Because our eyes and minds need to be open. Ignorance is a big monster buddy. What if one random kid comes to you and says that dinosaurs never existed?” 

“They did! There are skeletons in the museums!” Peter snapped immediately, not wanting to be contested with such a heartfelt subject. 

“That’s right. But the kid doesn’t know so he’s gonna spread fake facts. That’s not right, no one should ever do that to you and vice-versa. That’s why you gotta fill up that big brain of yours.” with the silence, he knew Peter was nodding even though he couldn’t see him with the eyes on the street. As a kid, Peter stored up everything his Pops said, and took it as the truth. 

“I’m going to learn everything about this world and all the other worlds and universes and galaxies!” Peter exclaimed, raising his hands in exultation. 

Steve chuckled, thinking that it was probably true. 

It took a few more minutes to finally get home due to the traffic, but Peter could now waddle again on the ground. As soon as he was on his feet, he started jumping energetically, waiting for Steve to take Pete’s school bag on his shoulder, his suitcase in one hand and with the other one he managed to lock the car. 

Find yourself a multitasking man like Steve Rogers. 

Jumpy, Steve found another nickname for Pete, who took his Pops’ hand as they walked, or better jumped towards the front door of the apartment. 

Steve was looking down at Peter who continued jumping by his side, but as soon as his head aligned with the horizon, he saw two figures standing right next to the front door. 

One woman, and a man by her side, were standing there. She was wearing a very nice white elegant skirt that matched a tailleur of the same colour. She had her blonde hair up in a ponytail so that only the bangs covered her forehead, but the rest of her face was exposed. 

The man was wearing a simple suit and had a sort of earphone, like the one that spies use. He was standing by the lady’s side all stiff, the posture recalling the one that the bodyguards acquired, so Steve assumed he probably was one. 

Steve didn’t think they were waiting for them, since they continued talking to each other, but when they got closer, the two raised their eyes to meet Steve’s. Automatically, he squeezed a little Pete’s hand, but he didn’t say a word. 

Once they reached the door, the lady spoke. 

“Good evening. You must be Steve Rogers!” she said with a smile, taking a few steps towards him and went to reach for his hand. “I’m Pepper Potts, C.E.O of Stark Industries, and this is Agent Coulson. I’m here to talk to you about Tony Stark.” 

Steve shook both their hands a little clumsily since his hands were full and, with her following words, he got the realisation of what happened the previous night. 

He was so absorbed by his own thoughts, worries, his job, and Peter that he practically forgot about the man he and Bucky saved the night before. A sense of guilt then invaded him, Pepper could probably feel the displeasure in his eyes. 

“Oh right, I’m so sorry, I've been so busy I couldn’t even get my head around it. How is he? Is he still at the hospital?” 

“Don’t worry about that, I see you have a lot to worry about” she says reassuring, sight now on little Pete who was hiding behind his Pops leg. 

“Hi little one!” Mrs. Potts waves softly to Peter who, more comfortable now, left his hiding spot and smiled back to her. 

“Tony is fine now, thanks to you and Mr. Barnes. We met him this morning, we knew you wouldn’t be home. I just want to say how thankful I am for what you did. And, actually, Tony would like to see you, to thank you in person.” 

Steve was surprised by those words, he wouldn’t surely thought that a man like Tony Stark, with all that money and power, could care about two strangers. And he felt guilty again for those groundless prejudices. 

“I umh.. Sure but there’s no need to thank me, really.” he gave her a little smile but, meanwhile, Agent Coulson approached what looked like a very expensive car and opened it, waiting for them to get inside. 

“Oh! Right now?” Steve asked hesitant, eyes wide open. “Peter has homework to do..” he explained but the white dressed lady was already taking a sit in the car. 

“He can do that at the Tower while you talk to him. Come on in” with a kind gesture of the hand she welcomed them inside the car. 

Steve, before he making any decision, looked down at Peter to understand if he was comfortable with that, and his beautiful smile was the answer. 

“Alright, let’s go” they got into the car and Steve was surprised to see a booster seat in there. Pepper seemed to notice that and decided to speak. 

“It’s my daughter’s. We knew Peter was probably going to be with you, so we left it here” 

Steve thanked her again before he could adjust Peter on the seat. During the short trip, car speeding through NY streets, Steve learned that Pepper had a daughter named Morgan but she was younger than Pete. 

The car reduced the speed slowly when they got in front of the giant tower. It almost made them feel intimidated by its height, the peak seemed to protract towards the clear sky willing to touch it. 

The entrance opened on an enormous hall with people running from one side to another, all busy with work. Pete and Steve followed Pepper, hand in hand, looking around them as they were walking on the ground of another unknown planet. 

Everyone was all dressed up very nicely and in that moment Steve couldn’t help but notice his own fit that consisted in a white t-shirt and basic black jeans. Thank god he didn’t play with Peter in the park or that would have been even messier. 

The elevator carried them to the last floor whose access was restricted to a few people, as the penultimate floor, and Pepper was one of them. 

The metal doors opened smoothly, showing Stark’s apartment in all its elegance. The design was extremely modern, probably organised by one of the biggest interior designer ever. 

A huge sofa, Steve could feel the softness by distance, was in the centre of the hall, facing the stained glass window opening on the captivating view of New York. 

On his left a marble fireplace and a big flat tv were placed against the white wall, the tv hung on it. Two steps of a stair lifted another circular but smaller floor at the centre of the room, in front of the large crystal window, where a strange technological device was standing. 

Steve didn’t know what was it and didn’t even try to understand. 

As they stepped out the elevator, a voice captured Steve’s attention. 

Stark was walking towards them after descending from the upper floor. His left arm supported by a brace was close to his chest, even his face had evidence of the night before. Only when he got closer to Steve, he was able to notice the purple bruise under his right eye which he remembered from a few hours before. The scratches that he saw, were there too, but the stitches made them look much better. 

Under that light Steve could see his natural and healthy skin tone that, luckily, replaced the chilling blue Steve saw him with. 

Stark got gradually closer to them and Steve, oddly, felt Tony's eyes burning on his skin the moment he stepped right in front of him. 

Those dark eyes intimidated Steve, he could feel the pressure of them as they were trying to dig inside him. It was a strange feeling, the kind that hits you but you can’t explain. 

Steve didn’t have an explanation, not the source of that sudden emotion, nor the reason. Nothing. 

He didn’t know why, he couldn’t explain it. 

He saw something in his eyes lit up when they met with his. 

It’s impossible to describe the unknown and, as such thing, the best option is to keep it in the back of the mind. 

Therefore, the thought was quickly shooed from his mind, he didn’t waste too much energy on that since it was probably nothing to worry about. 

“Tony. Tony Stark” the man said shaking Steve’s hand. 

“Thank you for coming. Thank you Pep.” he said as she was walking away but he couldn’t move his eyes from Steve, almost enchanted. 

The sight was later lowered when he noticed Peter by his father’s side. Almost magically, his gaze sweetened immediately and a smile flourished on his face. 

He lowered at his height, reaching out with his right arm for the little hand. 

“What’s your name little one?” he asked softly and patted on his hand when Peter squeezed his. 

“I’m Peter!” he exclaimed, moving back and forward with his little feet in excitement. 

“Nice to meet you Peter. I see you like Spider-Man uh?” Tony noticed, looking at his t-shirt under the jacket. Pete nodded immediately, jumping on his feet. 

“I got something for you then. Go look over there” as he stood up, he turned and pointed to a shelf, at the height of a kid, so it was probably made for a child. 

Peter run over there, scrutinizing every single book in there, but when his eyes caught the Spider-Man comics, his vocal cords released a high-pitched sound that made both of the adults laugh. 

“Be careful with that bud. And remember the homework.” Steve warned him, watching Peter sitting with his legs crossed on the sofa, reading the chosen comic. 

“Thank you for-” Steve started but wasn’t able to finish as Stark walked away towards the centre of the room, where that strange engine that caught Steve’s attention previously was placed. 

“Come, come ocean eyes” the man didn’t even turn while pronouncing these words and Steve tilted his head, surprised to see the confidence this man was already showing. 

Just with a snap of Tony’s fingers, holograms of all the shapes of blue appeared all around him, Steve startling in awe. He watched Tony moving with very elegant touches, he must admit, all the images and internet tabs enclosing them. 

“So.. Steve Rogers” he quickly said his name, tabs opening in front of their eyes, showing Steve’s picture of when he appealed for the army, along with a file containing some information. 

“How did you do that?” Steve asked, feeling his privacy being slightly violated, and awkwardly slid his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. 

“What? The holograms? With a big brain” 

“No, actually I was-” 

“Let’s get to the point, I need to thank you” the billionaire interrupted him, leaning against the engine. His eyes were low on the ground, almost in shame. 

Silence was now filling the space between them. The blondie didn’t dare talking as he saw the evident pain the man was holding back. He just stared at him, hoping for a sign of will to communicate something. 

Stark's wide dark eyes lifted slowly as if he had a weight on his head, but when they met Steve’s it felt like this weight was decreasing. 

“I umh...” Stark paused a little, touching his chestnut hair with his smooth fingers. “Thank you.” he sighed, eyes deepened into Steve’s. “I already thanked your friend, Barnes. But I wanted to talk to you in person because I think you might need my help.” as Steve’s face was twisted in confusion, Stark opened another file with a gesture of his hand and zoomed on it. 

It was a list. A list of all Steve’s war injuries, but one in particular was highlighted. 

“Right Homer irreversibly damaged by AK-47.” he read with a lower voice, eyes shifting from the blue words and the tall man next to him. 

Steve felt his muscles tense up, now the arms were crossed against his chest, defensively. 

“Don’t know if you know this but I'm pretty good ad science. Me and a friend, Bruce Banner, amazing scientist, are working on a serum that could potentially fix that” he explained carefully, looking at Steve’s right arm. 

Stark waited for any kind of answer from Steve, who was staring at the hologram of his own picture. 

“Think about all the benefits.” he continued, silence broken, walking towards him. 

“Your son is getting bigger, you won’t have struggles holding him. I know you struggle with ordinary stuff too. A wound like that doesn’t heal” 

“Then who the hell are you to fix that?” Steve burst out, now facing Stark, and, though the anger was almost overwhelming, he noticed how little he looked. 

He imagined him taller. 

Tony didn’t move and looked at him right into his eyes. 

“I might be the man that changes your life” he whispered, and to Steve it sounded too seductive coming from a man, but what surprised him the most was, that it didn’t bother him. 

Not a word slipped out his slightly open mouth, that was soon closed. He took a step back, eyes once again on the shining holograms. 

“What does it consist on?” Steve finally decided to talk, brows furrowed trying to gather all his thoughts. 

“It’s called super soldier serum” Stark said, showing now to him a file where everything was explained in details. 

“I can give you a copy of that, but in short, you’ll be stronger, you’ll heal faster, you’ll build up greater resistance to stress and fatigue. Also, it’s gonna pump up those muscles of yours, so you might be...even bigger” he patted his chest, wrinkling a little his nose. 

He then took a file from the table and handed it to Steve, who started to leaf through the pages with his tapering fingers. 

“The serum enables your cells to increase the molecular density of your cellular fibers through synthetic proteins. That’s why you’ll heal faster and your arm is going to be fixed.” 

Steve kept a religious silence listening to Stark’s monologue. 

When the file was closed between his hands, he turned to face the injured man, who was looking at him, waiting for an answer that Steve already knew Stark hoped was a positive one. He could see it in his eyes. 

“Why are you doing this, Stark?” he sighed, worried that somehow there was a trick that could mess him up in any moment. 

Stark’s eyes were glued into those blue gems, as they were trying to penetrate into each other’s souls. 

“You saved my life. Let me help you with yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I apologize for the late update, but I had so much to study for school.  
> Anyway, Tony is finally here! I hope you enjoyed the chapter, I'll try to publish as soon as I can.  
> Have a nice day, and thank you for reading!  
> xx,S.


	4. Chapter 4

Steve had been thinking a lot the last few days, maybe a little too much. 

It had been four days since the last encounter with the billionaire Tony Stark, who kindly gave him some time to think about the final decision. 

Many thoughts kept him up, and that was one of them. A sleepless night was coming to an end as the moon descended to welcome the red sun. 

Blue eyes staring at the empty ceiling, the silence crowded the room, tranquil in the early morning. It was his head that induced chaos. 

Steve swore he heard his own thoughts, like someone was talking right into his ears perpetually, rapidly, making his own brain feel like burning into fire. 

He would have torn his brain apart if he had the possibility. 

His eyes laid, once again, on the crumpled piece of paper stuck between two fingers. He had spent at least three hours scribbling on white sheets the pros and cons of the fateful Super Soldier serum. 

Steve didn’t really approve the name, and that was definitely a con. It was an important characteristic, in his opinion. 

He read a lot about it from the files Tony Stark thoughtfully offered him. The point was that Steve, not being a scientist, didn’t understand a word about it, about multiplying cells, protein fibers, intestinal system or whatever, so he had to look for every single word he wasn’t able to figure out on his own, on the internet. 

It was a long work but Steve didn’t mind it. The same night following Stark’s recommendation, the sleep disappeared and the only thing left to do was to take advantage of the situation and do research all night long. 

Steve thought he would have found many negative aspects as the procedure seemed really dangerous. Basically, it was supposed to change your entire body’s system and working process, amplifying its features such as reaction speed, the intellect and even the thought processing. That’s what scared Steve the most, the thoughts. His mind was already wounded by war and Steve wasn’t sure he actually wanted to find out how they were going to degenerate. It could get worse or better, he didn’t know and nobody could. 

Therefore, the only negative aspect that Steve managed to discover was written in the right side of that little paper with a dark red ink: death. 

If the serum wasn’t accepted by Steve’s body, he would have been gone in a minute, and he couldn’t let that happen. Not when Peter didn’t have anyone else to take care of him. 

Steve didn’t know Stark, nor his scientific developments and tech, but he knew something truthful glowed in his eyes. He knew it wasn’t a sort of trap and that he really wanted to be helpful, as a way to thank for saving his life. 

Was it enough though? Was it enough for Steve to trust a man he just met? 

“Daddy?” Steve’s head snapped from the pillow, now facing the slightly open door, where big hazel eyes were staring at him. Peter was standing barefoot on the door, still very sleepy, with his red pjs with math formulas drawn on it. 

Steve knew, that when Peter appeared suddenly on his bedroom door, it was the consequence of a nightmare, of a wet bed, or of an early-morning awakening. And of course, when Peter wakes up, everyone else has to do the same. 

“Hey baby, what’s wrong?” Steve whispered when his arms became a support to lift his torso, in order to rest his back on the headboard. 

“Why you up so early?” he asked, watching Peter’s little feet run towards the bed before climbing it to reach his Pop’s side. 

Steve didn’t waste a second to welcome him between his arms, placing a soft kiss on his messy curls. Peter hid under the covers, his little head was soon placed on his Pop’s chest as he found it as comfortable as a pillow. 

“I woke up, and the airplane was off.” he murmured, rubbing his sleepy eyes with his little hands. 

“I’ll see what I can do about it bud. Wanna sleep a little more? Mh?” Steve tried to make him fall asleep again when he saw that the clock was striking 6 in the morning. Peter needed to rest, it was Saturday and he could take advantage of it, taking a break from the usual morning routine before school. 

But, as we know, Peter wasn’t going to fall back to sleep once he was up on his little feet, waiting for new adventures to come. 

“No! I want to cuddle…and eat” he teased, his eyes now looking up to Steve’s blue ones, begging him to make breakfast. 

Steve chuckled, noticing immediately how Peter enabled the manipulating technique to persuade Steve on leaving the bed. 

“Pancakes?” he suggested, but no answer was needed. Peter loved pancakes, and as soon as his neurons picked up the information, a smile flourished on his face in excitement. 

“Yes! Let’s go!” once he was freed from the sheets, he started jumping all over the bed, laughing like crazy. Steve knew their neighbours could probably hear them, their laughs and their loud voices, but everyone loved Peter in that building. 

There was an old lady, Katy, she always smelled of fresh violets and musk and lived right next to them, so whenever she had the opportunity, she gave Peter candies or little toys that her grandchildren didn’t use anymore. 

It happened the nice lady invited the two eating with her, since most of the time she was alone. Her daughter was married to a man that Katy did not approve, but she wasn’t able to stop their marriage. The couple had two kids and a sparkle brightened her eyes when she talked about them with Steve, while Peter was usually busy eating the cheesecake Katy made herself. She was a pro in baking. 

Pops had the brilliant idea to sabotage his kid’s restless movements by grabbing his tiny ankles, making him loose his balance and fall on Steve’s chest. Peter was chuffed to bits, laughing like crazy and he knew Steve was too, his chest raising and lowering irregularly due to the laughs. 

“What a chicken you are. You didn’t see that coming uh?” Steve teased playfully, grabbing both Peter’s feet with his warm hands that immediately shivered at his freezing cold feet. 

His expression immediately turned from joy to concern as he knew how easy it was for Peter to catch a cold in that way. 

“Peter how many times did I tell you not to walk barefoot when it’s cold outside?” Steve said, reproachfully, suddenly his voice turned dark and Peter understood immediately the mistake he had made. 

The smile on his babyish face slowly disappeared, being replaced by a sad pout, eyes staring at him apologetically. 

Steve hated scolding his boy, he always felt so guilty for wiping out that precious smile from his face. But he understood that it was part of daddy’s duty too. 

Steve could now see Peter’s eyes getting teary, but he tried to hide it by rubbing them with his pjs’ long sleeves. 

He kept his lips pursed under Steve’s authoritarian gaze that was still focused on him, but he couldn’t handle it anymore. 

“Go put your socks on, I’ll wait for you in the kitchen” he ordered, trying to sound as convincing as possible, but for Peter it was more than enough. 

He managed to crawl off the bed, head low in shame, before his feet could lead him to his bedroom. 

When Peter walked through the doorstep, Steve sighed, releasing the tension accrued within his muscles. He just wanted to capture Peter between his arms and apologize for the tears that left his beautiful eyes. 

A few minutes later, Steve was baking the pancakes and Peter was sitting on the chair, soundless, his curly head resting on his hands that were laying on the table. 

Once the pancakes were ready, a full plate was placed in front of Peter who, instead of going all over it in a heartbeat, remained oddly silent and still, eyes low on the table. 

Steve looked at him, arms crossed on his chest. 

“What is it? You’re not hungry anymore?” he asked placing his hands on the table’s border, observing Peter’s reaction. 

“Not hungry” he murmured, shaking his head in disapproval. 

Steve sighed, standing still for a few more seconds. 

“Hey, c’mon” he whispered, trying to show a sort of comfort to Peter, who seemed very heartbroken. A chair was placed near that curly head, with Steve sitting on it and caressing gently his little back. 

“I’m sorry daddy had to raise his voice earlier. I love you bean, i just don’t want you to get sick” Steve explained carefully, hoping in his heart for a sign of forgiveness from Peter. He didn’t have to wait longer because Peter, feeling the sweet and comforting touch of his dad, raised his big watery eyes, and with an impressive agility, sat onto his father’s legs, nestling against his chest. 

“I’m sorry daddy” Peter whined , whispering, his hands gripped on Steve’s shirt. 

The sadness was slowly vanishing thanks to the cuddles Peter always loved, and the sweet words of his Pops. 

“I’m sorry too baby.” A kiss flown on Peter’s head before Steve could urge him again to enjoy breakfast. Now, he didn’t think about it twice, and settling on his dad’s lap, he started savouring his favorite food. 

They talked and laugh during breakfast, Peter as always made something fall on the ground and Steve, regularly, cleaned it up reluctantly. 

By now it had become an habit. Steve tried countless times to lecture him, when he was younger but even now, but it didn’t seem to be of any help at all. 

Peter was just like that, a clumsy kid, and sure, Steve could continue to make it clear to the kid that it wasn’t proper to always drop something, but it wouldn’t change a thing. 

Sometimes with a quick little movement of the hands, Peter, unconsciously, would throw off the table a glass, a jug, when he was little even his feeding bottle. 

An obvious consequence was the restriction, for the little guy, to plastic glasses and sometimes even plates. 

After breakfast, Peter focused on building a Lego science lab on the living room carpet, meanwhile Steve was engaged in washing the dishes. 

In short time, the continuous movements affected Steve’s injured arm, now stiffed and shaky. 

He took a deep breath, trying to hold on, but a sudden pain run through his arm and the plate Steve was once holding, fell into the sink. 

“Shit” Steve whispered, his left hand now holding the right one to have any kind of support while waiting for the pain to fade away. 

It was getting worse. Steve knew it. 

He was worried he wouldn’t have been able, in very little time, to hold Peter, to help him when it was needed. 

The doctors told him, back in 7 years, that the situation was impossible to improve and, almost a certainty was, for Steve, to loose completely the use of his arm. 

The consequences were even worse. Steve wouldn’t have been able to drive, ordinary activities would have been transformed into the hardest tasks ever. That meant a huge change in Peter’s life too. He woud’ve had to see his dad loosing an arm, not being able to help him or hold him as before, and Steve didn’t wish for such a thing. 

The fear to hurl on Peter’s shoulders weights and worries at that age, when he wasn’t supposed to have them yet, was stronger than ever. 

It was suddenly all clear into Steve’s mind. 

He realised that his only opportunity was Stark’s experiment. 

With any evident reason at all, he trusted that man. 

Every time Steve questioned himself, wondering why would he ever trust with his life a man he just met, he remembered. He remembered the pain written in his eyes, and he knew that a man like that could only be willing to help another man as much in pain as he was. 

Therefore, he decided to write him an email asking for an appointment and, despite its formality, it was a desperate crying of help. 

Stark answered quite quickly to Steve’s email and they immediately set up the day of the procedure. 

Steve had a week to think about it carefully, Stark was open to any change to the program, he reassured Steve, since the Super Soldier process wasn’t something to decide blindly. 

He didn’t change his mind though, and the prechosen day had finally come. 

They chose a Saturday morning in order to have the time to see how Steve’s body would react to the serum. 

“I gotta go jumpy. I’m gonna pick you up tonight, okay?” he tried to filtrate the sadness from his voice, to avoid any worry from Peter’s side. 

It had been a few minutes of Steve trying to leave Nat’s house, still snuggling little Pete between his arms, kissing and cuddling involved. 

“I love you” one last kiss was left on Peter’s forehead, before Steve caressed his cheek and, finally, got back on his feet. 

“I love you too Pops! ‘till later!” Peter hugged his leg while Steve ruffled kindly his beautiful curls. 

“ ‘Till later baby boy” both looked at each other with a beautiful smile, before Peter left the room to go play with the slime Natasha had bought him the evening before. 

Steve walked towards the door, Nat and Bucky following him with both eyes and body. 

Before he could step outside, he turned to meet them, face pale like a ghost. 

“Steve, you don’t have to do this. ” Nat immediately clarified as she saw the visible Steve’s apprehension in his eyes. 

“Don’t be a pussy” Bucky said, blunt, tilting his head and inciting Steve to go for it. 

“Babe!” He was immediately spanked on his chest by Natasha, accompanied by a hard disapproving stare. 

Steve mouth bent into a smile, which was able to give some relief to his tensed shoulders. 

“Don’t worry Nat. I survived war, what’s a serum gonna do?” Steve played down, dampening a quick laugh that, once his back was facing them, quickly faded away. 

It looked as an attempt to reassure himself more than his dear friends, and they knew it. 

“Be careful Steve.” Nat whispered to herself, like a mother would do watching his kid leaving for a night out. 

“Yeah, and I hope this time you’ve left some stupidity with me” Bucky said out loud, watching Steve walking towards his car. 

Even though his best friend couldn’t see him, he knew Steve was smiling and he swore he saw him shaking the head in enjoyment. 

Steve could feel the thump thump of his heart echoing in his ears. His breathing was heavy and his hands tried to find the fabric of his jeans to dry out the sweat. 

-It’s okay Steve. It’s just a quick injection- Steve tried to annihilate the growing anxiety, devouring his vital functions, as his blue eyes followed the colors enlightening the rising numbers on the right side of the overly silent elevator. 

Blue was now encircling the bright number 80, Stark’s penthouse. 

It was the first time Steve actually realized how many floors the Stark Tower had, and how long the trip had been. 

The metallic doors were about to be opened on the large hall, and Steve wanted to hold on those few last moments so badly that his own hands twitched into fists unintentionally. 

“You stuck Goldilocks?” that voice cleared out the mist that swaddled Steve’s mind until that moment. 

His blue eyes met once again those dark pools, suddenly his lungs were being filled by air that had seemed to abandon them since the second he was closed in the elevator. 

He cleared his throat, its sound echoing between the metal walls. 

“Stark.” He greeted him, a nod of the blonde head, stepping outside the elevator and entering the penthouse. 

A wave of warmth enclosed Steve’s already boiling body: the fireplace was on and Steve had noticed that before his eyes actually saw its flames burning. 

“Tony for you, no need for chivalry.” The left side of his lips gave Steve a quick sign of smiling, before he took the last sip of coffee from the tiny white cup held in his far-too-big hands for something so small. 

Steve just nodded, feeling once again Tony’s eyes scrutinize his body, probably because the thought of the imminent serum procedure was flowing in his mind. 

Once Tony placed the empty cup into the sink, his hand grabbed a sandwich with some kind of jam in it, and soon it was between Tony’s teeth. 

“You want? Sandwich.” he asked after the first swallow, handing the bitten sandwich to Steve, who refused politely scrolling his head. 

That man was chewing on Steve’s face instead of talking about the real business. Steve’s lips tried to hide an amused smile, it did not bother him, eventually. 

“Can I get you something?” the tiny man continued, showing his back to Steve as he walked towards the kitchen. 

Only in that moment Steve realized how dry his lips were and how desperate he was for a sip of water to wet his throat. 

“A glass of water would be nice. Thank you.” he asked kindly, watching him taking out from the fridge a chill bottle of water. 

Steve noticed Tony’s arm was still supported by a brace, looking quite uncomfortable. He started to wonder how he was going to manage the process Steve was meant to be submitted to. 

“How’s your arm?” Steve asked a few moments later, while Tony poured water into a glass. 

“It’s fine. I tried to free myself from this hampering but Pep always caught me. Waiting isn’t something I’m good at” Tony confessed, handing the water to Steve who thanked him with a soft smile. 

Steve could imagine that by the promptness with which Tony answered immediately to his email, or by the way he couldn’t stand the silence in conversations so he would say whatever popped into his mind, which was brilliant in any case. 

“You look great together.” Steve’s statement worked as a pretext to get to know something more about Tony. He truly thought him and Pepper were a couple, but he wasn’t one hundred percent sure. 

After the first meeting with Tony, he talked about him with Bucky and particularly with Natasha that had more knowledge on that field, as we have had the occasion to notice. She knew that both of the Stark C.E.O had a kid, but they were very private on their relationship. 

Pepper was also the one that came to Steve to inform him he was requested by Tony Stark himself. Plus, she had access to Tony’s penthouse. 

For Steve that was quite enough evidence. 

“I’m not quite sure what you mean with ‘together’. As partners yes, as a couple not anymore.” He explained with a quick shrug of his shoulders. 

Steve got it all wrong apparently. He saw Tony’s eyes move to focus on the wall behind him. Steve felt terribly guilty. He should have kept his mouth shut, he thought, not knowing how to react and if a proper reaction actually existed. 

“Oh.. I’m sorry, I umh.. I had no idea” he almost babbled when he decided to talk. 

He saw Tony’s lips parting, willing to say something, but a sudden voice interrupted their conversation for Steve’s sake. 

“I’m sorry, I’m late. My car decided to sleep, I had to take a taxy.” a man entered the room, holding a suitcase with his right arm. 

His oval face was dotted by a not so dark beard, and a pair of glasses rested on his nose. Steve understood he probably was the scientist Tony had told him about. Steve left the now empty glass on the kitchen counter while the man was taking a few steps forwards. 

“Liar. You overslept didn’t you?” Tony moved his head on his left shoulder to look at his friend, since Steve’s large shoulders covered Tony’s horizon line. 

His friend looked at him in apology and a hot Starbucks drink was handed to Tony, willingly trying to ask for forgiveness. 

Tony’s lips curved, once again, into the small smile that Steve had seen multiple times by now, but he realized that he’d never really seen him with a full smile painted on his face. Steve wondered why, not noticing he was unconsciously staring at the tiny man right in front of him. 

He could see though, that Tony noted that, this last one looking at the blondie with his wide eyes. Then he took a few steps towards the scientist and grabbed his hot beverage. By the smell Steve could tell it was coffee, once again. 

He wondered how many coffees that man could have before being killed by a stroke. 

“Bruce Banner. You must be Steve Rogers, right?” the other man, once his hand was freed, walked towards Steve and squeezed his hand vividly. 

“Nice to meet you. Mr.Stark…”he corrected himself “Tony told me about your work” Steve said with a smile, his eye’s corner could see Tony leaned against the counter, sipping his hot coffee as he enjoyed their interaction. 

“Yeah, Tony couldn’t stop talking about you too” the bespectacled said in amusement, but there was no malice at all, almost as Steve was supposed to already be aware of that. 

Steve was not after all, but he thought that Tony surely was talking about him, and the reason of that was the Super Soldier project. 

“Banner. Shut your mouth” Tony’s reaction made Bruce smile a little, watching the scene in amusement. 

“Alright we should get started. I’ll go and set everything up in the lab. Mr.Rogers I’ll meet you there” he said before disappearing behind the elevator’s metal doors. 

Steve sighed, crossing his arms in a sort of defensive attitude. The time had come and Steve could feel once again his heartbeat racing, pounding in his chest. He started to wonder again if that was the best decision, Steve had really bad timing for those things. 

“Last call soldier. You sure about this?” Tony’s voice went lower, with a touch of warmth which suddenly and unexpectedly for Steve, made his heart skip a beat. He genuinely thought that man cared about him, or at least about not wanting him to die during the procedure. 

An unsure nod of Steve’s head followed his question and Tony, probably noticing his insecurity, waited a few seconds, standing in front of him hesitant. 

Steve nodded again, trying to reassure Tony and himself. The brunette then, started moving towards the elevator, followed by Steve. The two exchanged a few words and gazes waiting for the right floor. Once the doors opened, what looked like a surgical room materialize in front of him. 

A few people dressed up in a white coat were focused each on a different machine, or on reading some files. Steve was able to spot Doctor Banner in the bright room, wielding little elongated shaped vials of blue serum. 

“Hey” Tony recalled his attention, noticing Steve was captivated by the scene in front of his eyes. “This way” he continued, leading Steve towards a fragment of the room, divided from the section of surgery by a white green curtain. 

Tony closed the curtain once they were both inside that little space. Steve sat on the gurney as ordered by Tony himself. Steve read about that on the files, he knew some tests needed to be done before they could proceed with the injection. 

“So..” Tony began, his fingers sliding through the files, Steve assumed they were his. 

“I gotta ask you a few questions that I didn’t find the answer to in your files. You mind?” his eyes run to Steve’s that were staring at him anxiously. 

“Sure.” Steve simply said, his body tensing for the pressure. 

“Alright. Have you ever been involved into substance abuse?” Tony’s eyes never left the blue ones, wanting to be sure he didn’t lie to him. Steve immediately shook his head in denial. 

“No sir.” by the firmness his voice evoked, Tony knew it definitely was not a lie. 

“Any chronic disease?” the answer appeared negative, again. 

“Mental illness? Of any kind?” Tony was ticking something on those white papers, before his eyes were again on Steve. 

Steve’s jaw clenched, tension burning from his feet to his ears. Was he supposed to tell him about his PSTD or just keep the secret lock into the closet? 

Tony’s burning eyes were now much darker, noticing something was wrong as Steve didn’t show any response. That’s when he knew a reaction needed to be shown in order to not let Tony discover his little secret. 

“No. I don’t” Steve answered, trying to sound as convincing as possible. 

Tony’s face showed concern and confusion to that odd change in Steve’s posture and voice. The files that almost covered Tony’s left side of his face, were now lowered to place himself right in front of Steve, trying to catch his gaze that was wandering all around them but his eyes. 

“Not so sure about that” Tony murmured and immediately he got Steve’s attention. 

He needed this. He needed this to take care of his child in every way possible,he needed it for himself. That wound was a war’s souvenir. 

Bombs, machine guns, gas, torture, death, he was glad he didn’t go crazy yet. All of that was enough to deal with every day, every night. The choking feeling of when the moon was high in the sky made him want to scratch his own throat apart, in search of air, of help, of hope. 

Hope was right in front of him. 

The serum would have solved all his problems and he couldn’t let that go. 

That’s why he responded, firmly, blue eyes staring now at the black ones. 

“I am sure about that. If there was something you would have found it on the files.” he hoped he was right. He found it strange though, how a genius like that could hack NASA codes but it turned out to be an issue to find Steve’s information about his mental illness. 

“I really need this Tony. I need to do it..for Peter” he was about to beg Tony to just put the damn serum into his veins, he was desperate for a change in his life. 

Their eyes spent a few seconds locked with eachother, one hoping he would let that superficial lie go, the other one questioning if it was the right choice to believe him. 

Tony stepped back, under the blue inquisitive eyes monitoring his movements. Behind him there was a white table, different objects placed in disorder on the surface, files,a stethoscope, a bunch of pens, but Tony’s hands were lifting the blood pressure monitor. 

Understood what the intention was, Steve showed the pale skin of his left arm, rolling up the sleeve of the white shirt. He wasn’t sure about the purpose of measuring the blood pressure, but if Tony was working on that, there was surely a particular reason. 

Tony sat in a plastic chair right in front of Steve, who was still on the gurney with his muscular arm exposed and now wrapped around the armband of the little machine he was holding. 

Tony’s eyes were focused on the numbers shifting on the monitor. Steve tried with all his effort to hide the sudden need to look closely at Tony, now that he had the possibility. His side profile captured Steve’s bright eyes, carefully perusing his soft brown hair, his dark beard nuancing from his chin down his jaw, and his vivid eyes crowned by long lashes, moving with blinks of his eyes. 

He didn’t understand why he was looking so carefully to him, to all his details, the way his brows furrowed while he was focused on those numbers. He wasn’t supposed to do that, Steve knew it and tried to take his eyes off him, but there, again, Tony’s lips slightly parted and Steve automatically glared at them, then at his nose, Tony had a perfect nose, Steve thought, and he loved it. 

“Steve?” Tony said, snapping two fingers in front of his face. The young man, though, blinked twice before realizing that. 

“Sorry umh.. What did you say?” the embarrassment painted Steve’s fair cheeks with a warm rosy colour. 

A grin flourished on Tony’s face and Steve swore a radiance stormed his eyes. 

“I didn’t know I was that attractive. I’m kidding I did.” he paused, his torso moving towards Steve who, for the unforeseen movement, went backwards banging his head against the wall. Tony, relatively with the same surprise as Steve, arched his right brow. 

“I just need to take this off. I won’t kiss you. Not yet.” quickly the armband slid along his arm, Tony admiring those ocean eyes closely, with a mischievous look. 

Steve was, to say the least, stunned, shocked, because of Tony’s words. What was he even talking about? He felt the need to contradict whatever was going on into Tony’s mind, Steve did not reflect the image Tony had created of him. 

“What?” that came out sounding very likely to an exclamation. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m not into...that” Steve’s heart was jumping into his chest. Steve hated that, not knowing what was going on with his body, his mind. The situation was slowly sliding off his control and he still didn’t have a clue why. 

“Oh, married? Yeah I got it” Tony didn’t move a single muscle. He was just sitting there, calm crossing his whole body, and his sight never leaving Steve. That was not an innocent look at all, not from someone who’s not interested into stealing somebody else’s husband. 

“No! I’m not married I’m just not-“ the blondie’s shaky gestures and stuttered voice were interrupted by the entrance of the scientist. 

“We’re about to get started. Let’s go” he said excited but at the same time very calm. How was everyone so chill when Steve was completely freaking out? He couldn’t get his mind around it. Now his only desire was to run away and hide his head under the sand like an ostrich. 

The conversation was thus interrupted, Tony didn’t seem to mind at all, he walked out the little room with his head held high, proud and fierce, while Steve had the regret and the burning need to end the previous dialogue, to clarify that he was not interested in that kind of relationship. That was not him. 

He didn’t have a chance to explain that to Tony though, since he was carried into the surgery room, where he saw Banner filling a syringe with a liquid. Steve was soon laying on the operating table, the pressure of a needle piercing his right arm was imperceptible, but that was just anesthetic. There were a few seconds of apparent silence, at least that’s what Steve perceived, but Tony, Bruce and other scientists around him were having a pretty intense and loud conversation. 

His blue eyes just stared at the ugly ceiling before Tony’s shadow broke the moment of coma Steve was floating in. 

His voice brought Steve back to earth, suddenly all the voices and noises burning against his eardrums. 

“We gotta begin now.” Tony warned him, his hand placed on Steve’s shoulder as he talked. 

“If it hurts too much you can tell us to stop alright? Think about your little man.” Those words came out of his mouth at the perfect time. Steve had been laying there, panicking, his head was everywhere but that room, before Tony spoke and guided his mind to his salvation: Peter. 

He was doing all that just for him. The only reason why Steve was resting on that gurney was to give Peter another chance, to assure he was going to be safe long enough, maybe forever, he hoped. 

Steve watched Tony’s lips drawing the usual smile on his face, but this time it was comforting, he’d say even loving. 

Soon Tony’s figure disappeared and just in a few second, multiple syringes filled of blue watery liquid were pressing against both Steve’s arms, the fluid slowly being injected into his body. The fleeting peace was then replaced by fire burning into his veins, his muscles tensing, clenching, stressing under a power he wasn’t able to handle. 

Steve’s jaw was so tight it was going to leave him with an extra pain to his teeth. Just suffocated pants left his clenched jaw, hard resistance trying not to show the pain he was suffering. It didn’t last long. Soon his heavy breaths became screams, he couldn’t hear a thing but his own thoughts. 

But all of sudden images appeared, of his past, his childhood, his adolescence, his first times, Peter, all of them running right and left, up and down his brain. He was living all of his memories all over again, no surgical room existed, just himself and his souvenirs, except it was all amplified. 

First he saw his mother caressing his cheek, his heart was exploding, melting, pounding vivid and living into his chest. Bucky was now there, trying to seduce two girls in the school’s parking lot. Now he wanted to rejoice for his best friend’s goofiness, the happiness wanted to make him jump and laugh and laugh and laugh. 

Those giggles soon disappeared at the sight of his old man on a hospital gurney. Steve’s eyes turned into lakes filled by tears, he wanted to scream, to run towards him and shout out loud how much he loved him. But his feet didn’t move and his throat didn’t let a single vibration out, in spite of his countless attempts. 

Suddenly, similar to a change of scenario, he saw her. Heart racing for love and breaking one second after, slowly, painfully, it was even worse than he remembered. Tears were running on his heated cheeks, desire of grabbing his heart with his bare hands and break it into pieces. 

Then there was Peter. He was wearing the little blue bodysuit Steve had seen him with the first time they met. He was so little, the previous pain and panic was displaced, Steve was now terrified by the thought of taking that baby made of glass between his soldier arms. 

Then there was love. Unconditional love, the one that you cannot explain but overwhelms you. He felt his heart full, opening, spreading always more, needy of that love, of that happiness. 

That’s when he opened his eyes. 

The control was back on his body, on his accelerate breath, on his mind. He looked around with blue wide eyes, noticing everyone staring at him in silence. They must have heard something of what Steve was, sort of, dreaming. 

A hand was placed under his sweat head, helping him getting up to sit on the gurney. Steve wasn’t surprised when he saw Tony by his side. 

His soul was unexplainably relieved to his sight. 

“How did it go?” Steve’s voice was much louder than he thought it was, and that made Tony chuckle. 

“It went good David.” it was a joke, but as always he was dead serious. Steve understood that reference only when he lowered his head and saw his own body. He had always been a muscular man, but the serum defined his shape like he had been practicing at the gym for years. 

“See it by yourself” Tony added and patted his right arm so that Steve attention was now on that one. 

He swallowed, afraid that as soon as he raised that arm, the pain would still be there. Slowly, with drops of sweat running from his forehead on his nose, on his chin, the right arm was lifted. Not a single hint of pain was felt. 

The blondie turned his head quickly to the genius. He kept his word. He helped him, he really did, but Steve didn’t think Tony actually realized how he had changed his life. 

Steve wanted to stand up and hug him, tight, to make him understand how grateful he was. But he stopped himself, he didn’t even know how he could think such thing. 

Steve thanked God in his mind, and then he smiled, looking at the man right in front of him. 

Tony was the architect of that miracle, but God’s miracle, for Steve, was Tony himself. 

As the adrenaline of the moment was slowly vanishing from his veins, Steve’s body was eager of nourishment. 

“Can I have that sandwich now?” 

Let’s just say that Steve didn’t eat just one sandwich, he ate three of them before and he was now biting the fourth one, with Tony looking at him surprised. 

“Do you have the intention of emptying my fridge?” Tony asked with a sweet irony, meanwhile sitting comfortably on a stool on the opposite side of Steve, so that they were facing each other. 

Steve, whose mouth was full of strawberry jam and bread, looked with his blue puppy eyes Tony and, despite he knew he was messing around, Steve felt really guilty. 

Apparently Tony noticed that and he smiled in response, amused. Steve started to think he actually enjoyed making him feel uncomfortable, with his cheeks tinted of pink for the embarassment. 

He took a sip of water after finishing the fourth sandwich. There were a few moments of silence, of just glancing at each other and Steve thinking about how he could ever stop looking at him, wondering why he was in the first place so interested into a man. 

“Look, Tony.. I don’t even know how to thank you for what you did” Steve said with his deep blue eyes glued into Tony’s, who was now very stumped by his words. 

“I think we’re even Steve. You forget you kind of save my ass from an obvious death.” he said, eyebrows lifted as he was explaining something Steve was having trouble understanding. 

Steve knew that, he was aware of what he had done, maybe not fully, but he was. Anyhow he felt the need to continue thanking Tony. 

“Speaking of what... can I ask you how did you end up there?” the question made Tony shiver. Steve knew something dreadful was hiding behind that night and Tony’s reaction was the confirmation he was waiting for. 

Suddenly, those big brown eyes were frozen, staring at the emptiness behind Steve’s back. Tony’s lips twitched quickly, it could barely be seen. 

“Went for a walk, got lost, I tripped over and that’s it” the phrase was so hurried that Steve almost struggled understanding all the words. 

“You tripped? Why didn’t you get up then?” he asked. Steve could be naïve sometimes, but he surely wasn’t stupid. 

“I hurt my ankle” 

“Your ankle is fine, I saw you running this morning.” 

“I hit my head. I passed out” Tony tried again, excuses on excuses, and the anxiety was taking over his tiny body. He couldn’t sit still anymore, so he got up, pretending to look for something into the top shelf. 

Steve got up too. If there was one thing that he couldn’t stand, was people walking away while talking to them. Without even thinking, he found himself a few inches away from Tony’s body, his hand placed on the previously opened shelf that was shut closed with a quick movement of Steve’s hand. 

Tony jumped, his head now high to meet ocean eyes. 

“You’re lying to me” Steve’s low voice could only be heard by the two of them. 

Their bodies were so close, Steve didn’t even notice that initially, but when he started to feel the warmth of Tony’s body, no matter how comfortable it actually was, Steve stepped back, cold air crowding the space between the two men. 

Tony’s eyes were wide open, burning with desire, but when he noticed the hesitation in Steve’s movement, a cunning smirk was drawn slowly on his face. 

“I don’t actually know you, so I'm not obliged to tell you the truth.” he began, Steve starting to frown his eyebrows willing to understand what point he was trying to make. 

“Let me buy you a drink. We’ll hang out and maybe I'll tell you something.” he leaned with the right side of his body against the kitchen counter, with his usual pride, waiting for a sign. 

Steve’s face was just a mixture or surprise, astonishment, fear. 

Fear of what, exactly? 

His lips tried to generate a logical sentence, failing the first times. 

“Tony I..I’m really not-” he was interrupted again on his way to tell him no, that he was not interested in men, not at all. But this time it was him holding back himself, because Steve didn’t enjoy lies, not the ones that are being told, not even the ones that are told. And that would have been a lie. 

Tony waited for him to continue the talk, but it seemed like Steve’s tongue got stuck between words. 

“As friends. Or we can forget about you saving my life, me saving yours, and live like strangers.” he said, and he got a point. “You decide” 

He was damn good at that, Steve thought, knowing by now he didn’t have a way out anymore. 

Steve was subjected of a duality. A part of him wanted to say no, to take the distance from this man who was guiding him into the unknown, something Steve never even fantasized about. On the other hand, that thrill of mystery, made him craving more. He wanted, better he needed to explore that part of him that was kept secret, hidden, buried deep in his soul and that Tony managed to bring to life. 

Too much was at stake for Steve though. His child, his family, his own feelings. 

Was it going to be worth it? 

Steve really hoped so, because the answer to the offer was without a doubt, yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!  
> Sorry for making you wait so long for this chapter but i'm really busy!  
> Also, i unintentionally posted this chapter on wednesday cause i still don't know how to use this platform,sorry guys!  
> Anyway, i hope you enjoyed it! Please let me know what you think, i'm open to any kind of constructive criticism!  
> Till next time!  
> Love,  
> xx,S


	5. Chapter 5

White? Grey? Black? Light blue? Steve didn’t seem close to decide what to wear that night, but time was running out while his hurried hands ran through the clothing that was once folded, well pressed and organised in the drawer. 

The white shirt would definitely do justice to his tough body, but the black one was the proper background for such blue shaped eyes. Steve found himself panicking over the colour of a shirt, so odd for such a composed man. 

“What do you think? White? Black?” Steve was staring carefully at the two shirts on the hangers, waiting for an answer that never came. 

“Someone’s there?” he turned to face his silent listener, who disappeared from his sight. 

“Pete?” he called again, taking steps forwards to the messy bed, not even the sheets could be seen with the mountain of clothes devouring it. Which is exactly where Steve had lost his son. He didn’t even know how he could breathe under all that. 

Steve’s eyes scanned the colourful surface of the bed before an unnatural lump detracted his attention. That lump soon had a small head of messy curls and pink cheeks due the heat under shirts, sweaters, tank tops and God knows what else that wardrobe managed to throw out thanks to Steve’s raptus. 

“Did you fall asleep?” Steve eyes went wide in surprise and amusement. 

“Almost did. It has been 45 hours!” the kid exclaimed and with a quick gesture his hands were in the air, making a sock and a shirt flying on both sides of the bed. 

“You’re so dramatic.” the old man pointed out, smashing another shirt on Peter’s little face causing his giggles. 

“Come on, I need an advice bud.” a sigh of hinted frustration left his lips, both for the irresolvable decision and the fact that he was asking for style advice to a 7-year-old kid. 

“They’re boring!” Peter puffed, leaning his head on his tiny hands, while his eyes looked absent-mindedly to the two basic t-shirts. 

“Excuse you? Boring? How could you say that?” Steve’s extremely offended expression said it all. “Black and white never get old.” 

“You do.” Peter joked and his smile was willing to provoke his dad, knowing what the consequences will be. 

If Steve was offended before, now he was hurt deeply in his heart, where a hand was placed afterwards, to show to the author of such sin, the pain he had caused. 

“Did you just say that I, me, dad, papa, that I am old?” he waited with his eyes glued on those hazel gems shining in excitement. 

“No...” Peter changed his mind just to avoid the tickles, but as always, he couldn’t hide a laugh when Steve was getting more and more closer to him with slow but wide-ranging steps Pink Panther style. 

“No? I Heard something else before, didn’t I?” the bed was about to be attacked by dad Steve and his little son had to batten down the hatches hiding under the clothes. 

“Old people are hard of hearing!” a disguised high voice exclaimed as a small bundle was crawling on the bed, hauling with him the clothes. 

The exclamation was kind of funny, Steve had to admit, but he was willing to show Peter, with his usual playful manners, that he was absolutely not happy about it. It was in these very situations that Steve couldn’t help but admire Pete’s speak, how smart and sly he was with those sentences that absolutely killed his dad with laughter. 

“You are ‘cause you never learn, trouble maker of my boots.” the clothes flew all over the place when Steve threw himself on the bed, causing it and his baby on it to jump. Peter didn’t even have the time to realise what was happening when he got wrapped around warm strong arms and mischievous pinches jumping all over his soft skin. 

Steve was used to do that, and with a fast move Pete’s wrists were locked by Steve hand, that undoubtedly could wrap those little skinny wrists with no heave. Peter’s laughs echoed between the bedroom’s walls as a result of the raspberries being left on his tummy. 

The clock was ticking and Steve was probably going to be late for his meeting with the Stark guy, but that didn’t stop him from being a goof ball, his son included, playing around and annoying the little one with weird names. 

They found themselves laying on the bed side to side, Peter cuddled up, as his usual, on Steve’s raising chest while he relaxed under the sweet touch of caresses on his curls. 

“Can you tell me the story?” Peter knew very well how to outwit his dad. A pair of sweet eyes and extremely fruity voice were all it took. 

It had been four days of intense narration of the same exact story, every single time, but Peter didn’t seem to be bothered at all, indeed he found it very much entertaining. The chocolate eyes would look at his storyteller in stupefaction, veneration, the wheels of his brain racing smoothly, Steve could tell by the way his eyes moved following his movements. Because Steve had a brilliant idea, he had no limits at all, and to play an astonishing performance, acting was crucial along with improvised costumes. 

It added a sparkle to the usual narration and it seemed like something Peter had been waiting for ever, though Steve always did his best to tease Peter’s imagination and bring it to reality. 

But this one was unquestionably one of his favourites. 

Steve eyes glanced quickly at his watch, its hands marking 9p.m and something like ten minutes. He didn’t look at it too carefully as his sight only lingered on the black device for less than a second. 

More or less 30 minutes were left before Steve had to leave, but a ‘no’ was out of question. 

In no time Steve jumped into his costumes that, luckily for Peter, changed every time: from a red hat made by his own underwear, to an old nightgown as a representation of a lab coat. This time he went for something different and wrapped his left arm around a white shirt. Steve easily tied a knot through the sleeves of the t-shirt, then being able to encircle his neck with it and sustain his left arm. 

The tiny human began to giggle as soon as his father got into the role. 

“Mr. Tony!” Peter exclaimed, knowing exactly who Steve was playing once again. Tony was one of the most enjoyable and funny characters, in Peter’s opinion, probably because Steve was able to make him look that way. Not that Tony wasn’t funny, he actually possessed a natural sarcasm Steve had the opportunity to experience, but with his kid Steve became a true comedian. 

The act consisted in the recreation of the Super Soldier process and nothing could be more exciting for a kid to listen to his father’s superhero story. 

Let’s just say that the story had been slightly changed to conform with the audience. The syringe magically turned into a glass of blue disgusting liquid and the struggles of the process had been obliterated. Peter liked a taste of action though, therefore his eyes were glued on the scene of Steve kneeling on the parquet pretending to be overwhelmed by a pain to his chest. 

“Come on daddy! You can do it!” Peter kept shouting between laughs, his sweet little hands rattling in the air anxiously, despite his considerable knowledge of the case. 

Under that encouragement, the hand placed on Steve’s pecs kept its place, but his legs found the strength to get up, followed by Peter’s applause. 

“You did it! You’re saved now Pops!” less than a second and the kid was jumping off the bed to land into his father’s arms. 

Thank God Steve’s reflexes got enhanced, and now that Tony gave this opportunity not only to him but even to his kid, he made the most of it. 

Every five minutes Peter was on his father’s back, between his arms, or grabbed hold on him like a little monkey and Steve couldn’t be anything but happy. That was all he wished for, a gift that life had stolen too soon. 

“Thanks to you bean. I needed a supporter.” a loud kiss was planted on Pete’s ear, disconcerting his little head. “Even though you bullied me but that’s fine. I’ll keep that in mind next time you ask for chocolate.” the desire of vendetta was overflowing from those words, but Peter, for how much he could pretend to be scared of the spoken threat, knew that his dad would cave. 

Time was now over and Steve was, thankfully, all dressed up. It so happens that his torso was covered in a maroon shaded shirt to spice up the black leather jacket and a pair of black jeans that he didn’t even remember buying. 

That shape of red kind of shines on Steve’s milky skin tone, anyone would be speechless at the sight of such mirage. 

“How is it? Do you like it?” the little assistant had been jumping in a circle on the bed for at least 10 minutes, taking advantage of his dad’s oversight. 

“You look hot!” Peter exclaimed gripped by the adrenaline running throughout his body due to the spins that went, maybe, a little too far. 

Steve’s reflection on the mirror in the corner of the bedroom showed on the background a jumping curly head, but Steve was too focused on adjusting his belt. When Pete’s words travelled to Steve’s ears, with a quick shutter of the head the kid got all his attention. The word ‘hot’ used in that precise context sounded out of place for Peter’s vocabulary, as far as what Steve knew, which made his eyes disclosed wide open in consternation. 

“Hot? What was that, who taught you that?” turning towards Peter as quick as possible, waiting for an answer that never came because, delightedly, the doorbell saved Peter. 

“This conversation isn’t over.” Steve warned his son before running to the door. He didn’t even ask who it was since they were waiting for someone. 

The open door revealed Peter’s babysit for the night, the red head Natasha was standing there, hands unsurprisingly holding two bags of food. Steve wondered if she thought his fridge was always empty. 

“What did you bring this time? We already ate.” Steve tried to investigate, pretending to be offended, but it didn’t stop Nat from looking at him from head to toes, with an eyebrow raised in surprise. 

“Hello hot baby daddy, you got a date uh?” she was, to all appearances, more enthusiastic than Steve himself, who at that moment got his mind around the origin of the use of that word. Damn it Natasha. 

“First of all, I’m not going on a date. I’m wearing the usual, I don’t know what you talking about.” he knew that was not totally true, but his unconscious absolutely refused to think he was going on a date, moreover with a man. 

Natasha’s expression said it all, she was not falling for it, knowing how bad of a liar Steve was. She made herself place, surpassing the imposing figure in front of her. 

“You smell good and you are wearing a red shirt.” she pointed out, landing the bags on the table, unleashing a pleasant smell of... 

“Mc Donald’s!” a little voice shouted suddenly coming from the bedroom. Peter came running, rushing in a few seconds between his auntie arms. 

Steve did not understand why the public opinion was so hard on him and his fashion choices, he just dressed as everyone else, or at least that’s what he opined. 

The poor man was just hurt to the core. 

“So, who’s the lucky girl?” she asked with Peter between her arms whose face tilted in confusion when he heard those words. 

“You going out with a girl daddy?Ew.” Peter pretended to throw up, covering his mouth with his hands. Guess he got the dramatic trait from his dad. 

“What? No, I said I'm not going on a date. Understood?” he specified, pointing his finger at the two of them, who were looking insistently to him, waiting for answers. 

“It’s just...you know...hanging out.” Steve was looking all around him, in search of a way out, probably too shy to look into his friend’s eyes. The previous tenacity was slowly being chased out, but the two detectives didn’t seem willing to let it go. 

“It’s just Tony.” he let out like it was the heaviest confession he ever made. Once his eyes decided to meet theirs his soul obtained relief as Natasha was smiling, though that was definitely a malicious smile mixed with a hint of sweetener. Peter was just happy to hear his favourite character’s name. 

He’d like to complain, as he’s used to, to whatever Natasha was thinking, but words weren’t spoken because arguing with Natasha was not possible. She was right, always, not once she got it wrong and Steve was not ready for her to lecture him about his own feelings. 

“Then you should go and have fun. You’ll never have more fun than us though, am I right?” the question was addressed to Peter who was already trying to seduce Nat with his big eyes to eat the food. 

“I bet that. He’s gonna be fat with all that he eats.” he joked around while looking for the car keys that soon came to light. 

“You are fat!” Peter complained with his mouth already full of chips. Steve laughed at the sight, scrolling his head amused. 

It was time to go by now, but not without a goodbye. Peter had his daily dose of goodbye cuddles from his dad, who kissed him all over his sweet face. The scene was actually very comical as Peter tried with all his efforts to shake away his dad, wilful to eat his second dinner peacefully. 

“You sure you’re okay with me leaving? I can stay and cuddle.” his lower lip slightly protruding, sad to be far away from his baby boy. 

“Steve. He’s doing great and he wants you out of here to eat.” Natasha was literally kicking out the owner of the house, but none of them complained, especially Peter. 

“Fine. Thank you for the hospitality.” his eyes rolled dramatically, before he could leave the last kiss on Pete’s curls. “Till later baby.” 

“Till later daddy!” his greasy little hand waved goodbye, watching just for a few moments his dad and Natasha walking towards the door, and finally he could enjoy his meal. 

Steve stepped outside the door soon after, no recommendations were needed as Natasha was a family member by now. She leaned on the door, watching Steve as a proud mother. 

“What is it?” Steve asked, a quick and shy chuckle running out his throat. 

“I’m just happy for you.” a simple sentence, but to Steve it was more than that. 

“Nat... This is not what you think, I’m being serious. I like...you know...feminine parts.” his gestures became suddenly very clumsy and nervous as his speaking. 

“Yeah, I know that, your son is the living proof. But it doesn’t exclude the fact that you can like him too.” Steve didn’t understand perfectly how she was able to accept all that and he, himself couldn’t. 

His thoughts didn’t arrange properly for him to question what Natasha had just said, so he found himself trying to detect any kind of evidence from his own mind that could counter attack the lie. But he didn’t. 

“Gotta go now.” his voice was lower, almost trying to hide. He ran down the stairs after placing a kiss on Nat’s cheek. 

His feet jumped smoothly on the steps but an interior urge, made him stop and turn to face Natasha who was waiting for him to leave above the stairs. 

Steve cleared his throat to claim her attention. His hands began to run nervously on his jeans, trying to release the tension. 

“How do I look?” his voice echoed on the patio, looking up to his friend in search of any kind of comfort. 

There, a smile flourished on her lips. 

“Amazing, playboy.” the nod of her head boosted Steve’s confidence that seemed it had been lost somewhere far from Steve’s body. A thankful smile was placed on his lips before he finally decided to leave the apartment. 

Once again, Natasha scored one point. 

Steve was ready to reach his car in order to meet with Tony at the address he had sent him the night before, but the unexpected sound of a horn roared on his back. One second later a very fancy car, Steve once had seen one in magazines at the barber, pulled over. 

The tires went silent, not a sound was made despite the braking. The identity of the driver was hidden by the tinted windows, matt black covering the entire supersonic engine. 

If Steve was surprised, it only got better when the window revealed the real playboy of the situation in skin and bones Tony Stark. 

“Well that was kind of an entrance.” Steve’s body muscles relaxed at the sweetest sight of Tony, as a smile grew on his lips. 

The first thing Steve noticed was that Tony was wearing glasses, hiding those beautiful chocolate eyes of his. But thankfully Steve had the confirm that his own presence too was a delight for Tony, watching his usual smile shining on his face. 

“Yeah, I enjoy bothering tall blondies. Wanna get in?” it shouldn’t have sounded so charming to Steve, but at this point everything regarding Tony was charming. 

Steve ran to the other side of the car and as he was lowering to open the car’s door, it opened by its own leaving Steve speechless. Too much luxury for him. 

Anyways he got inside pretty quickly, afraid that the car might slam the door on his face. Once he got inside, he was overwhelmed by the fresh scent of Tony’s perfume, rousing and very pleasing to Steve’s olfaction. 

That man smelled rich, looked rich and was rich. 

“I thought we were supposed to meet at the bar.” Steve told Tony while putting his seatbelt on. Safety first. 

“Changed my mind. And location.” Steve tilted his head in confusion as he saw the whole plan of the night being messed up. It seemed like Tony noticed his disorientation. 

“It’s still a bar.” 

“Then why did you-” he didn’t even finish that Tony words jumped on his and the car speeded through the streets. 

“I like this one better. Don’t you trust me Rogers?” Tony asked rhetorically, knowing that after having injected the man with an experimental serum the level of trust should have reached the stars. 

The smirk on Tony’s face was so expressive that Steve couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Why should I, Stark?” he decided to play along, finally relaxing on the car’s seat as the conversation started to flow more smoothly. 

“No reason at all. Just you know...it came to my mind the time when I saved your life, I mean nothing that extraordinary of course. I'm so smart that it was nothing. Do you recall that?” Tony was trying to be as serious as possible and to hide the imminent laugh he cleared his throat. 

“Actually, that was an improvement sir.” Steve pointed out when a laugh due to Tony’s question resonated in the car. 

Tony rolled his eyes in response. “What improvement? That was a whole renovation!” 

“So, are you saying that I needed a renovation?” 

“No. You were perfect before.” Tony let that out with such a chill attitude that Steve wasn’t expecting at all. He looked at him speechless, the long eyelashes blinking too many times for such a short time, heat on his fair cheeks, which he hated the most. It had been years since the last time someone had made our Stevie blush, and now it was kind of a regular event around Tony. 

“My arm was a mess.” Steve managed to mumble while trying to find a convenient position on the currently much uncomfortable sit. 

“Doesn’t change a thing.” more of a whisper was what left the tiny man next to Steve who was still able to capture the buzz that made Tony’s lips tremble. 

The temperature of the car was too hot against Steve’s skin, burning under the leather jacket. He tried to fix the neck of the shirt willing to mitigate the burnt. 

“Is umh..is the heater on?” 

What came as an answer was Tony’s low chuckle. 

“Nope, ocean eyes. No worries we’re here.” and he was right, thankfully, because Steve felt like fainting in any second. When the car stopped, he finally had the alleviation to collide with the cold air of the winter, slowly coming to an end. 

The blue eyes exploder the structure of the building standing, imposing, right in front of them. It was nice, nothing too extraordinary or eccentric like everyone expects from Tony Stark himself. Steve never really expected a thing from Tony. He knew much less than the majority of the world but it didn’t bother him. Plus, he was too busy wondering about his sexuality so he really had no time to google Mr. Stark. 

The bar had two bodyguards in front of the wooded door, it had a touch of rustic from the outside, the interior design was still a mystery. Once they got closer the big men followed the two just with the eyes, sliding slowly and carefully as they were scrutinizing them. Not a word was spoken and the soft music coming from the inside could be overheard by the outside. The duo got in quickly, moving directly towards the bar station. 

Tony was very comfortable, as his usual. He got rid of the glasses while sliding between bodies of people talking or standing in the middle of the place. Steve wished to be that comfortable, but all he was doing was giving apologetic looks to all the people he involuntary stepped on. 

For everyone’s sake they got to the bar and sat on the barstools. 

“You know for being a soldier you got through that pretty bad.” Tony enjoyed mocking Steve, and he knew that. 

“Lost my touch.” he laughed a little, supporting his elbows on the table. Steve could feel Tony’s eyes, his beautiful eyes, staring at him: that shirt was a good choice after all. 

Only a few moments after he had the courage to face him. 

“Actually, I'm not very good with the... you know social thing. I tend to become nervous.” he admitted after Tony had ordered them something to drink. 

“I think you’re doing great.” the soft smile appearing on Tony’s face was a sight for sore eyes, at least for Steve who repaid with a sweet smile. 

The drinks were soon placed under their noses. They were clear as water with a slice of lemon on top of the glass. 

“Did I mention that you can’t get drunk? You’re stick with me all night, sorry buddy” 

Steve laughed, nodding his head. “Yep. I’m gonna be your bodyguard don’t worry.” And Steve knew Tony was quite happy about it. 

“I bet you were one of the rescuers of the wasted ones.” Tony was sipping his drink from the black straw, his chest facing Steve along with his head. Steve had the full view of the man and he just couldn’t stop contemplating his bone structure, the cut of his eyes, the way his lips moved to bring the straw near his mouth. He had a simple but very nice in texture white shirt, where a black tie laid. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and Steve noticed he got rid of the arm supporter. 

Now he was so glad he couldn’t get drunk or the situation would have escalated too quickly. 

“Well, it depends actually. During high school I was kind of a douchebag. I used to get drunk pretty easily. I once found myself throwing up right behind a bush of the host’s house.” 

“Good you remember that at least” Tony was really enjoying the conversation, being that he probably didn’t imagine the very Steve in front of him getting wasted. 

“I don’t. Sam, the host himself, told me.” his laugh blended with Tony’s, beautifully harmonising together. 

It was probably the first time Steve ever saw Tony’s full white teeth shining in a smile. Soft wrinkles found their places around his dark eyes. The thought of how pretty he was wanted to be exposed in words but Steve consciousness refused to let that happen. It was not the time. Steve was not ready, and that reaction explained that. 

He just kept enjoying his drink with quick sips, but what his conscience was not able to force him to do, was to keep his eyes off the handsome man. 

They talked for a long time, but to their perception it flew away. Steve learned that Tony loved cheeseburgers, and that once he ate too many just to win a bet suggested by his best friend, Rhodey. It didn’t end up in the best of the ways since he got sick for three days. He understood that he had a couple of Master’s degrees in some engineering stuff that Steve didn’t quite get, and he entered MIT very young. It was quite intimidating for Steve though; this man had a pretty outstanding knowledge unlike Steve who left the studies to pursue art and the military career. 

Tony didn’t like to talk about his family, Steve noticed, after a question regarding his father that the older man dodged immediately. Pushing wasn’t in Steve’s blood, it never was, so he didn’t try to bring the subject back to life during their lovely conversation, besides it would have been a pity to ruin the pleasant atmosphere. 

“You get what you deserve! The kid’s a genius, end of the story.” Tony defended the protagonist of their debate when Steve illustrated him one of Peter’s adventures at school. 

He just finished explaining to him, detailed as Peter did proudly back in time, the day he hid a bug into a kid’s rice cake. It was kept safely in the lunch box and Peter watched him eat it before he could notice and run crying to the teacher. In his defense, the kid had called him “stupid” because Pete didn’t like playing football. 

“I always taught him to show the other cheek.” Steve explained for the fifth time to Tony who was unbothered by his explanations, pretending to yawn. 

Steve rolled the eyes in amusement, trying not to let a laugh escape his lips for the funny situation. There’s no doubt he was proud of Peter for standing up for himself, and that he actually was a laughing mess when Peter told him that with his little angry but satisfied little face. However, he didn’t want Peter to get in any trouble or to become a violent kid, doubting that would’ve ever actually happened. 

“Listen Pope Rogers, thank you for your lesson but I have to argue that.” Tony was absolutely unstoppable when he wanted to prove a point or just to show he was right. He was very stubborn and it’s observable from the most ordinary stuff like this conversation. 

“Why am I not surprised?” Steve raised an eyebrow and his eyes along, previously lowered to contemplate the ice in the empty glass. 

“Morgan is four and once she bit a little girl because she said her shoes were ugly.” as Tony said that Steve noticed he was actually more hurt than probably Morgan herself. 

“First of all, that shoes are Valentino, second of all my kid knows how to kick ass. They have a bright future ahead I'm telling you.” 

Nothing could now stop Steve from a good laugh while he grabbed his left pectoral with his right arm, seeming like he was falling backwards from the stool. 

Once he got his breathing back, his lips parted to say something but a dark voice, stronger than the music playing on the background, did it first. 

“Ah, ah! Tony Stark himself! How’ you doing buddy?” the voice got closer but Steve already had eyes on the walking man. Tony was still looking at Steve for a few seconds trying to avoid any kind of confrontation with the unknown person that didn’t seem so mysterious to Tony at all. 

His relaxed expression turned into annoyed and slightly nervous in a heartbeat. His head moved just to place his chin above his shoulder, in order to face the man. 

“You know who I am uh?” his words were mumbles; it was hard enough to understand what he was saying. Steve immediately noticed his clenched fists as he walked with red eyes staring at Tony’s. 

“Sure don’t. You know me but I don’t know you, that should tell you enough.” Tony was now standing up, adjusting his expensive suit back on. With a nod of the head he induced Steve to do the same and leave that place. 

The tension was building its way up very quickly due to the sudden lowering of all voices in the bar, to listen to the strained conversation. 

“You ‘n a rush? Afraid of consequences of y’ actions?” the man’s lips trembled with a dark, shrill laugh that creeped out not only Steve and Tony, but the man’s friends too, like they weren’t expecting that psychotic scenario. 

“Let’s go.” Steve’s low voice interrupted bluntly his sinister laughter, but he wished he never did so. 

The man had what looked like a nervous tick to his left eye, that a few times twitched with a spasm, but it was only an aggravation to the intoxication. It probably wouldn’t even look that bad with a sober look. 

“I ain’t talkin’ to ya. Why’d refuse my child project?” the man mumbled with anger, everyone could see the carotid pulsing on his bare neck. 

Steve had no clue about what was going on, he just stopped to watch Tony’s reaction who, as always, played it cool, not a hint of agitation or fear. The man was just a few inches from his face, breath stinking sharply of alcohol, but Tony didn’t move. He kept his hands in his Gucci’s suit and looked at him right deep into his eyes. 

“You know damn well that was not his project. He’s a smart kid, I would have approved it if it hadn’t been yours.” the right side of Tony’s flushed lips gave the man a smirk, and that was the straw that broke the camel’s back. 

No hesitation was shown by the shabby man who literally threw himself on Tony, his fist reached his face in no time causing a general panic into the room. Steve, who stood there hoping the worst wouldn’t happen but it did (usual luck) and there was no way to stop him now. 

The blood was boiling into his veins and only after he realized what he had done. 

Tony was staggering and holding himself up with a grip of a hand on the bar, and the mysterious -to Steve’s knowledge- man was instead laying on the ground, blood coming out of his now broken nose thanks to Steve’s punch. The man was skinny so Steve could had probably knocked him down with a touch of his finger, but a punch was what he deserved. Surely, being punched by a super soldier did hit, in the true meaning of the word, different. 

Steve wasted no time helping Tony out, under the astonished gazes of the bystanders who followed their steps as they walked outside that disgraceful bar. 

They hurried next to Tony’s car. He was not able to drive because he couldn’t see from the eye covered with a napkin, trying to stop the bleeding from his cheek. 

“How is that every time we meet you get beaten up Tony?” he sighed, struggling to open the car with the keys that Tony gave him after arguing about his ability to drive in that condition. 

“It wasn’t that bad. I could have passed out.” he joked around, trying not to laugh when Steve fulminated him with his flashing blue eyes. 

Only God knows how, they managed to get into the car without dying or being assaulted by the men in the bar. Steve could have easily defeated them all, but it wasn’t his intention, not that night. 

“How do I drive this thing?” how could we blame him? The car had hundreds of different buttons, sparkling letters and numbers, and even a voice. 

“Mr. Stark I'm afraid someone is at the wheel of the car, sir.” Steve jumped right away, ready to punch a hiding English man into the car. 

“It’s fine Jarvis, he’s Steve, you can answer to him too. Steve, Jarvis.” one-eyed Tony introduced his greatest invention to Steve, while his beaten eye continued dropping tears. 

“Jarvis? You gave the car a name? And it talks?” Steve struggled to believe that, it was enough for him to know how to use a computer, though he was younger than Tony himself. 

“Don’t talk to him like that. He can be susceptible.” 

“Actually, sir, I’m an A.I. Mr. Stark created me very successfully.” 

“Well...I should’ve seen that coming from a genius.” he had just the time to finish his sentence that the car ran out the parking lot to sneak in the roads, all by itself. Steve was, at least to say, terrified and Tony was enjoying that with every single atom of his body. 

“No!Hey!” Steve shouted but soon enough he noticed that the car was not listening to him. 

“I am in charge now. I am driving. Tony is a stalker so I'm sure you can find my address.” 

“Yes sir. I’ll guide you to your address.” J.A.R.V.I.S warned them but Steve looked far from pleased by it, arousing a soft chuckle from Tony. At least he could control the wheels of the car. It was a big step. 

There were a few moments of silence, Steve didn’t join Tony’s amusement or chuckles, paying serious attention to the road. He probably didn’t even notice the silence filling the space between them, but Tony surely did. He was the one that couldn’t stand silence. 

“You know...he likes you.” he was willing to break the ice with that simple statement that brought Steve into an atmosphere of confusion. 

“Who?” the tone of his voice was a little annoyed and full of disorientation. 

“Jarvis.” Tony’s head was placed on the closed car’s window, with which way he was able to fully look at the man by his side. He didn’t have to wait long for his reaction: he spotted a growing smile on Steve’s face though his efforts trying to hide it. 

“Shut up, purple eye right there.” Tony had what was supposed to be a quick gaze from Steve, but it lasted longer than actually planned. 

They looked at each other, those opposite colored eyes staring and willing to keep that way forever, gifting one another with beautiful, joyful, smiles. 

“I swear to God if you wake up Peter, I'm gonna beat you up.” Steve whispered once they got inside the apartment. They had been talking, well Tony had, through all the way up there and the time to zip it had come. 

“That’s not nice from a God’s man.” Tony counter attacked with a soft low voice, watching the blonde man giving him a roll of the eyes. 

Steve, once again, found himself struggling with opening the door, eyes forcing themselves to see something in the dark, but failing miserably. 

“You are the one making noise douchebag. Give it to me.” a whisper left Tony’s lips as his hand skillfully found Steve’s one, sending shivers all over his body by a simple touch of hot skin. 

Got the keys, inserted them, unlocked the door, all within a split second. 

For a slight moment Steve wondered how he had learnt to do such things in the dark, but when he started to think further, he forced himself to stop right there. He really didn’t want to know. 

Steve mimed to be quiet to Tony, placing a finger on his own lips. He could see Tony on the verge of laughing which was why a smile automatically appeared on his lips. The door opened slowly and a strangely but lively music delighted their hearing. 

The two looked at each other, Tony already laughing. 

“Bold of you to assume the kid was sleeping.” Tony entered the house like he owned it, Steve following like the guest. 

“Yeah make yourself at home.” he made sure Tony picked up the sarcasm in his voice and he sure did, but didn’t stop wondering with his eyes in every corner of the dining room. 

“Wait here.” Steve told Tony before he could approach Peter and Natasha who, apparently, were still up and very much awake by the noise coming from his son’s bedroom. 

Steve had the idea to peek into the room, just curios to acknowledge with what the two criminals were dealing with. The blue pearls detected instantly the two figures in the room: Peter was standing on his bed whit his pjs on, luckily, hands holding Natasha who instead was with her feet on the floor. They were engaged in a sort of goofy dancing and singing a song at the top of their lungs. But there was more: they were alternating so Natasha sang something and Peter somehow answered. 

“I've got a dream” Peter sang with surely more intonation that Natasha herself.   
“He's got a dream!” she continued, still singing.   
“And I know one day romance will reign supreme   
Though my face leaves people screaming   
There's a child behind it dreaming   
Like everybody else, I've got a dream” they both sang, Peter now jumping and trying to link his movements with the beat of the song playing at the little radio on a night stand. 

The happiness filling the room was palpable; Steve’s heart loaded with bliss, gratitude, felling more than lucky to be surrounded by people who made him happy, but most importantly who made Peter live the best life. 

He felt so bad for having to interrupt such a good, joyful time, but he was sure Natasha had already heard the door shutting. She had a pretty over-refined hearing, so if Steve wasn’t going to show up any moment by now, she wouldn't have hesitated to shoot whoever had entered the house. 

Steve always thought she had been a spy in another life, but she just laughed about it. 

“I’m pretty upset I didn’t get the invite to the party.” Steve’s debut on the room made Peter jump in surprise and Natasha, as Steve had foreseen, just smiled at him. 

“It’s only for fun people Stevie.” her hands left Peter’s so that he could run between his daddy’s arms. 

“Daddy!” Peter’s sweet voice welcomed Steve who, lowering at his height, snuggled him between his arms, Pete laying his little head on Steve’s shoulder. 

“We were singing the song from-” he stopped when behind Steve a figure appeared in the dark hallway. Steve noticed Peter wincing suddenly, but the expression soon turned into surprise. 

“Mr. Tony!” the kid seemed very enthusiastic at the sight, but shyly his feet started to move back and forward in hesitation, not knowing what he was supposed to do. 

Steve turned his head to watch Tony right behind him. He should have known that Tony was not going to follow his previous recommendation. 

“Hey kid.” Peter was probably one of the few people whose Tony gifted with the softest smiles ever, making him feel less uncomfortable then he usually was with people. 

“Mrs. Romanoff.” he greeted the red head who was scrutinizing him very carefully as the first thing that jumped to her eyes was the wound on Tony’s pale skin, sharply blackened by blood. 

“What happened to your cheek Mr. Tony?” Peter asked intriguingly, his tiny hands still holding tight on Steve’s large shoulders. 

Before Steve’s mind could make up a lie, Tony did it first. 

“I got distracted ‘cause a funny dog was walking by. I hit a light pole. It’s not that bad, don’t you worry.” he quickly explained, with Steve’s eyes glued on him but that he pretended not to see. The kid laughed as his eyes imagined in front of him the narrated event, which led Tony and Steve to smile too. 

“And now I gotta fix that. I’ll be back in a minute.” Steve ruffled Pete’s curls before urging him to get ready for bed. Peter had always been an obedient kid, Steve really had nothing to complain about, so he made his way to the bed, waving to Tony as a goodbye, this last one gave him a quick wink as he waited for Steve. 

“You need a ride home Nat?” Steve offered her as she was adjusting her coat on. 

“Got my own ride soldier, but thank you. Talk to you tomorrow uh?” they exchanged a hug and at the same time, since her face was turned towards Tony, she squeezed her eyes, giving him an intimidating gaze. 

Mamma Natasha mode had been activated and there was no coming back. 

Steve thanked Natasha all the way towards the door as his usual, not even she had been able to fix his habit of thanking people so many times. He did so much for the others to forget he was worth the help. 

The house went silent, Peter was probably half asleep or reading a book, while his father found himself with a wad of cotton drenched in alcohol pressed against Tony’s cheek. The older man was sitting on the toilet, making faces for the burn of the substance scrolling on his open wound. 

Thankfully Steve knew what he was doing. The years in the military provided him a solid amount of teachings and advices, among which, dealing with a wound, though Tony’s was plain comparing to what his eyes witnessed during war. 

“Stop complaining, it’s just a scratch.” Steve snorted following many of Tony’s sighs of extreme complaining. 

“I know. But still. I find entertainment in being annoying.” he confessed, though there was little to confess as it had been obvious to Steve. 

“Who would have thought.” Steve chuckled; his eyes glued on Tony’s healing wound. With a slow movement of the hand, he retracted it to have the whole view of Tony’s face. 

They kept quiet for a bit until Steve decided to put an end to the contemplation of Tony’s features and opened his mouth. 

“So... What was that for? Did you know him?” asking that question Steve realized they didn’t discuss about the rescue night. They got so caught up in the conversation that Steve forgot to ask. And now, another mystery joined the team. 

“Acquaintance. That’s it.” with a scroll of his shoulders he tried to run away from the interrogatory, but Steve was not willing to allow that once again. 

“You’re lying to me. Again. You promised, Tony.” 

The man looked at him in apology, but his eyes begged him not to talk about the current situation. He also knew Steve was not going to give up, he had to give him something. 

“His son was an intern at Stark’s Industries. His final project was not actually his, but his dad’s. So, I didn’t fund it.” 

“How did you know?” 

“Cause only a psychopath can come up with that kind of stuff. And a psychopath needs a billionaire with a past of weapon manufacturing to fund it. But I'm done with that, so I didn’t.” he tried to give Steve a general summary of the situation, but many details were missing for Steve to fully understand why that man was so frustrated and what kind of correlation there was with the night Tony almost died. 

He also knew that it was all he was going to extrapolate from Tony that night. 

“I was your bodyguard, after all.” after a few seconds of silence, where it could be heard Steve’s brain working on the given information, he spoke more words to lift Tony’s spirit. 

“Never doubted that, soldier.” Tony’s voice faded into a whisper, still sweet but mildly scratched. 

By the proximity of their bodies each of them could feel their sensible skin being touched by their breaths. Steve was hesitant to meet Tony’s eyes, fearful of the effect they have on him. 

Tony’s eyes would look at him so deeply, so intensely, that Steve felt his own soul crawling out his body, screaming for help, for someone who would allow him to forsake the sweet sensation overloading his brain in the presence of that man. His eyes, dark on Steve’s blue ones, staring with such a strength made Steve tremble, he felt the need to break that contact, but he didn’t. 

And that felt strange. 

He didn’t how it happened, neither why, but he didn’t seem to find the will to look away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!  
> I finished editing the chapter sooner than i thought, so i'm happy to share it with you.  
> I just want to say a few words about the situation we are living worldwide with the corona virus. I hope you all are home, safe and healthy. Please be careful and stay stafe. Unfortunately it's a very dramatic moment in history,impacting all our lives. I hope this chapter can keep you company while in quarantine! Staying home and social distancing is for our own good and the others. Let's try to respect that.  
> I know it's a rough time, so whatever it is, even if you don't know me but you need someone to talk to, i'd be glad to help.  
> I'm sending you all my love.  
> xx,S.


	6. Chapter 6

As days were chasing each other, Steve and Tony kept in contact not only by brief text messages, since Steve didn’t quite enjoy writing on that uncomfortable bright keyboard, as he defined it so, but they got to meet each other and hang out together. 

Tony had offered Steve to make use of his private gym in the Tower. He was aware of the fact that Steve’s body now really needed physical activity in order to stay healthy. It took a few days for Steve to realise that his body had changed, not just in appearance but even in needs, so one day he found himself fighting against a punching bag in the luxurious fitness room a few flats under Tony’s penthouse. 

Steve couldn’t stop thanking Tony every time he used the gym as he didn’t want to seem like he was getting used to it, though Tony wouldn’t exactly mind. 

When the genius managed to have a break between meetings and tinkering, he would come down holding his usual coffee and chat with a sweaty Steve on the gym’s bench. 

One cloudy morning, Steve had made his way to exercise at the Stark Tower and spent a good hour punching and weightlifting. The one hour he used to be with Sharon after work, was now invested in this, and he did not regret that at all. It was not just for the gym though, but it was still Steve, and he couldn’t admit that, not yet. 

He was ready to head back home for a quick shower, just in time to pick up Peter from school. As his feet stepped outside the glassed door of the gym, a light weight bumped against him, the collision making the tiny man stumble backwards so Steve reached for his wrist to avoid the imminent fall. 

They stared at each other in surprise for a few moments before Tony, as usual, could break the silence. 

“You’re lucky I didn’t spill my coffee, or you’d be kicked out my gym forever.” the irony caressing his words was never missing as well as Steve consecutive laugh. 

“If you drank less coffee my chances would decrease, Stark.” Steve of course had to point out as he helped the man regain the balance before losing his grip around his exposed skin. 

“Remind me Rogers, are you an expert in maths now?” he grinned playfully, bringing the hot coffee near his rosy lips. 

All he got was a roll of the blue eyes in front of him, that soon after were back on his. Steve noticed how Tony took his time to worship his statuary body: the muscular arms showing from a white sweated tank top, the skin under his ears down his neck and shoulders slightly heated up with a soft pink shade along with his cheeks. The cherry on top was his red moistened mouth, shining under the clear lights of the hallway. Lately Steve had found an unusual delight in watching Tony struggling in front of his eyes because of his presence. 

“Were you looking for someone?” he pretended not to know Tony was actually looking for him, willingly to bring his head back on Earth, and, as expected, the other man cleared his voice to cast out the embarrassment. 

“I wasn’t. But since you bumped on me I gotta deal with you know.” he took another sip of coffee before throwing the emptied cup in a bin nearby. 

“You were the one that bumped on me, Tony.” 

“Don’t think so. Whatever, wanna grab something to eat tonight?” the straight-forward question made Steve stumble a little in surprise. Was he going to ask him out on a date? Steve suddenly realised how wrong that was and the previous mood of flirt was replaced by insecurity and a sort of fear. 

“I- I umh... I don’t know Tony... There’s Peter and...and work, school tomorrow...” he chewed his words that came out in a stutter, to which Tony didn’t seem impressed at all. 

“You like pizza? And my company?” 

Steve furrowed his eyebrows, looking at his in confusion. “I do but-” 

“Cool, I'll pick you up at eight.” a pat was placed on Steve’s chest before Tony could walk away towards an unknown direction. 

“And tomorrow is Saturday!” he turned to Steve while walking backwards. A shrewd smile appeared on Tony’s lips as he watched Steve being hit with the realisation. 

He watched him disappear behind the doors of the elevator, leaving Steve as the mess he is wondering how Tony had him wrapped around his finger every single time. 

The sky was grunting angrily as its clouds grown darker and darker. With his chin up, he moved gently the opened umbrella to the side, peeking at the sky. The school backyard was full of parents waiting anxiously the ring of the bell. Many of them holding the snacks for their kids, others were gossiping in a circle like a hidden sect, and then there were the ones like Steve, standing in their inner peace and waiting patiently to welcome the little ones between their arms. 

A few minutes later, a crowd of tiny humans was rushing out the school, their eyes running furtively to spot a familiar face to protect them from the rain. Steve made his way between kids and parents running away as the rain was burning on their skin. Peter, as usual, was one of the last kids to come out, but this time he was all alone, with his little head of curls hidden under the hoodie. 

It was enough for Steve to understand that something was wrong with his baby. Peter raised his head just to see where his father was, but luckily Steve reached him with a quick run. 

“Hey baby, I’m here.” he lowered to Peter’s height, keeping the umbrella open to cover both of them. He didn’t hesitate to snuggle on Steve’s chest and his arms held around his neck. 

“Are you okay? What’s the matter sweetheart?” Steve soft voice tried to comfort Peter as much as he could, but he didn’t seem like he wanted to let go of his dad, clinging even more to him. 

“Alright... let’s go” he freed Peter from the weight on his back and got up, holding him tight to his chest. They got to the car as quickly as possible and Peter was placed on his seat. 

His cheeks were heated and once Steve placed his lips on his forehead, he realised he was actually burning. 

“Oh oh, you’re burning Pete. How long have you been feeling sick?” Steve got suddenly worried, he knew Peter didn’t tell anything to the teacher, but it wasn’t healthy to keep pushing himself while sick. 

“Umh...I-I..maybe...before lunch” Steve’s heart broke at the sight of his baby being so weak, tripping over his own words. How the hell didn’t the teacher notice that? 

“Don’t worry. We’ll be home in a minute okay?” Peter relaxed at the soft touch of Steve’s hand on his cheek, but the delight left the moment Steve closed the car’s door to get inside and drive home. 

Peter let himself being carried upstairs like a sack of potatoes. Usually it would have been a struggle undressing him to put his pjs on and then putting him to bed, but this time the kid didn’t let out a single complain. Not a word was spoken, the house was silent like only a few times before during similar situations. 

“I’ll make you something hot okay? You get warm down here” Steve made sure the sheets were well adjusted and made his little body warm enough. A sweet kiss was smacked on Pete’s burning cheek before getting up from the bed and head to the kitchen. 

A chamomile seemed quite nice to uplift Pete’s spirit and help his sore throat, it might help his sleep as well. 

Peter was unrecognisable while sick. No jumping, no yelling, no tantrums...but nonetheless Steve hated it. When that time of the year came and Peter got his annual cold, you couldn’t even tell a 7 year old kid was living in that apartment. He just spent those sick days cuddling with his dad, sleeping, eating soup and watching movies that he hardly ever managed to get through the end of it, falling dead asleep. 

It also meant that Steve couldn’t leave the house and had to get sick days at work, and that was no good for his income. Bucky and Natasha were more than happy to help him with Peter, but as we all know, Steve doesn’t seek for help unless the whole world is falling apart. 

He was always sure he could handle it on his own, there was no need to shout for help. For his luck, Natasha always knew everything, and whenever she discovered Peter was sick, help was sent. 

He just hoped this time Peter wouldn’t spend five days sick in his bed for his own good. 

Soon enough Steve served his little one in bed with a hot chamomile and biscuits, of which Peter munched just half of one of it, not hungry at all as Steve already expected it to be. 

“Bud you gotta eat something. We have to lower the fever” Peter could certainly not take the paracetamol with nothing in his tummy, but the kid didn’t like the option ‘eating’ at all. 

“ I‘m tired” a soft sigh left Pete’s lips once he was done sipping the chamomile with the help of his dad. 

“Alright, let’s get some rest mh?” the empty cup was placed on the little nightstand next to the bed, where Steve had placed the Vick vaporub that usually helped Peter soothing his cough. 

Moreover, Pete absolutely loved when his dad rubbed softly his tiny chest, giving him the immediate relief, sufficient to make him flee to dreamland. 

The kid was relaxed on the bed while Steve proceeded with rubbing his chest with the magic balm, which effects did not hesitate to show. Pete exhaled in comfort and sooner than ever his eyes dropped shut. Steve waited for him to fall asleep, moving a lock of curls from his sweaty forehead. 

When Peter’s chest was raising regularly, Steve tried with the stealth and elegance of a ninja to get up without waking him up. However, the struggle became real when he realised Peter was holding his shirt with his little hand, but the grip was not as gentle as we could think. 

Slowly, the older man tried to make him loose his grip by forcing his hand to open up, but nothing could be done since Peter whimpered every time Steve tried to move. 

He surrendered once for all and made himself comfortable on the bed with his baby curled up on his chest. His eyes wondered a few moments on the ceiling, but those seconds of distraction and silence guided his mind against a barrage of thoughts, worries, concerns and his body didn’t feel able to handle all of that. His attention shifted to his sleepy son, to his long eyelashes that were definitely Steve’s genes, his lovely little nose, his lips that turned heart shaped while sleeping, his graceful tender features that to Steve’s eyes made him the prettiest creature alive. 

He really wished he could stay that way forever. Just a bundle between his arms that he could protect from everyone and everything. 

The projection of that image was still in his mind, and so it was before slipping into the arms of Morpheus. 

A sudden noise echoed in the room and Steve’s heart lost a heartbeat as he snapped his head from the pillow in alarm. 

“What happened?” the question came out almost by instinct the moment his eyes dropped on the curly head, who was standing on the ground and watching him with wide eyes. 

“Sorry daddy... needed to go pee but I dropped it” Peter’s face immediately turned in an apologetic look as he pointed at the mess he made by accident. The cup, previously placed on the nightstand, had met the floor and crushed into pieces. 

Anyways Steve was relieved, knowing that Peter didn’t have a scratch. 

“It’s okay bean. My fault, it was hovering up there.” he got up straight away to pick up Peter, in order to avoid making him wander around with only his socks on. 

Carefully, they, or better Steve, dodged all the splinters and got Peter in front of the bathroom. 

“Alright, you pee while I clean that up buddy. Shout if you need me” he waited for him to get inside, being sure he was fine with doing it on his own. 

Steve went through the lumber room in search of the broom to clean up in the bedroom as soon as possible, so that Peter wouldn’t have to wait much longer if he wanted to get back to his comfy sheets. 

Thankfully for Steve, the broken pieces of the cup did not manage to spread all over the place, so it turned out to be easier than expected. While he was focused on picking up all the remnants, a bright light on the corner of his eyes captured his attention. 

The screen of the phone, now turned on, showed a list of notifications which grew up the confusion in Steve’s head. He grabbed the phone once he had freed his right hand from the broom, and when his eyes leaned on the missed calls, still nothing popped up in his brain. The realisation came when his eyes read the shining name “Tony” on the notifications bar. 

They were supposed to go out that night and Steve completely forgot. The thought of being still in time to warn him about not being able to make it that night, flashed him, but the hands of the clock already got past 8 p.m. 

Steve felt so desolated, maybe even angry at himself for the mistake he had just made. He could have at least warned him, but he completely lost the perception of time along with the concept itself of going out. 

He let the hand, with which he was holding the device, fall on his side, and his blonde head was thrown back in a sign of abandon, as his lungs exhaled hardly in defeat. 

“Shit” he whispered to himself, going back to the phone. 

“Bad word!” a sleepy voice exclaimed to his back, and as he was used to by his dad’s teachings, he covered his ears with the hands. 

Steve jumped a little for the surprise, turning back to face his boy. 

“No way. You heard it wrong young man” the broom was put aside as Steve helped Peter get on the bed. 

“How are you feeling?” dad asked softly while he placed a soft kiss on Pete’s curls. 

“I’m hungry now. But here hurts” he pointed at his own throat, looking at him with watery eyes due to the fever. 

“I’m sorry baby. I’ll make you dinner and then with the medicine you’re going to feel better okay?” 

“Promise?” he murmured in a soft voice, hiding always more under the covers, willing to find more warmth. Steve understood that from his movements and tried to tuck in the sheets around him. 

“I promise.” not another word was needed for Peter to trust completely his dad, and a beautiful smile, that Steve had been waiting for all day long, was finally flourishing on his face. 

Reluctantly, he had to get up to grapple with the cooking, but not before leaving another kiss on Peter’s cheek. His head was the only thing that appeared from all over the sheets. He looked like a little dumpling and the sight couldn’t help but trigger a soft chuckle from Steve. 

Once he got outside Peter’s room, he didn’t hesitate a second to call back Tony, trying to figure out a way to explain how sorry he was. 

The phone rang, pending, waiting for the other side to pick up, but as the seconds kept passing by, Steve regret calling back in the first place. 

Ready to hang up, a voice answered. 

“Steve?” 

“Tony! Uhm... hey. Hi. Look... I'm sorry. I-I got busy and didn’t realise-” he wasn’t able to finish as Tony interrupted him. 

“Steve, it doesn’t matter. I should’ve figured it out that you didn’t wanna hang out. Next time at least warn me though.” 

Steve could hear by his voice that he was a little pissed and maybe hurt, he still had to figure out a way to understand completely Tony’s feeling. 

“No, Tony is not that. I swear. Peter got sick, I lost conception of time and I fell asleep with him. I’m sorry.” he sighed, walking nervously back and forth in the kitchen. 

“What’s wrong with the kid?” the metallic voice pierced Steve’s ears in surprise. He wasn’t expecting Tony to ask about that, since he had all the rights to be mad at Steve. 

“Just a cold. I’m gonna give him something after dinner.” 

“You guys already ate?” 

“ Umh not yet. I’m about to-” 

“Peter likes ramen?” Steve wrinkled his forehead in confusion, and stopped walking as it was stopping him from thinking, though we all know that’s a misconception. 

“Ramen? What’s that?” Steve question made his interlocutor go silent. 

“Tony?” 

“You don't know what Ramen is? Where do you live, under a rock? Lemme talk to the kid.” that kind of sounded like an order, but Steve stood there looking out the window on the other side of the room. 

“Steve. The kid.” Steve rolled his eyes, disassembling his resting position with the hands on his hips, and did as said. 

Peter was still up, and his curly head looked at his dad walking inside the room before he could hand him the phone. 

“Tony’s on the phone. He wants to talk to you” he lowered the phone at Peter’s height, so that he was able to take out his little hand and grab the phone. 

“Hello? Mr. Tony!” the exclamation was soon followed by a cough. 

“Hey kid. Your dad told me you’re not feeling great. You like ramen?” 

“Yes! Uncle Bucky and I ate that. But just once” he pointed out as he watched Steve’s stare growing in disorientation. 

“Alright, good. Can I speak to your dad now sweetheart?” 

“Okay. ‘Bye bye Mr. Tony!” the phone was back on Steve’s hands, still looking at Peter waiting for answers. 

“Your kid has more knowledge than you, hope you know that.” 

“Very funny. And yes, I do. But I still don’t understand.” 

“I’m bringing you two dinner. I’ll be there in.-” there was a moment of silent as he was thinking. “twenty minutes. Sounds good?” 

“Tony you really don’t have to.” the last thing Steve wanted was for Tony to spend money on them and come all the way down there to their house. There was no need of bothering him. They had all they needed in the house. 

“I don’t have to. I want to.” 

Suddenly, Steve’s heart jumped in his chest, although those words were nothing special at all, Steve felt like they were. And the fact the Tony was doing that because of Peter, didn’t help the odd feeling spreading all around his stomach. He tried to wipe it out, anyway. 

“Thank you, Tony.” 

“I’ll see you in a bit.” 

The phone call ended the second after, and nothing was left to do for Steve other than setting the table for three. 

The time was enough for Steve to set everything up and to give the apartment a decent look that didn’t scream ‘a kid lives here’ from every corner. 

The bell rang and he walked towards the door to welcome the guest. The house looked clean and comfy by now, the opposite of Steve. He didn’t change clothes once they got back home, not that they were dirty, but an outfit change would have been very much appreciated. 

The brunet’s eyes met the blue ones once the door was finally opened. As he greeted Steve, the usual quick smirk brightened his lineaments and handed him the bag with the food. 

“Delivery man.” Tony said sarcastically, before Steve could let him in with a smile. 

“Thank you, Tony. I appreciate this” of course he needed to thank him again, why not. Tony didn’t care about the thanking at all, but of course he was not going to fight Steve on that. 

“Where’s the little man? Dinner’s ready.” the table was soon full of food Steve had never seen before, but apparently he was the only one on planet earth that could relate to that. 

“I’m gonna get him” the tone of his voice lowered matching the one of a whisper. The man in front of him had absolutely captured him although he wasn’t engaged in anything special. Why was Steve suddenly stumbling at the presence of Tony, and why couldn’t he avoid that? Steve always had the situation under control, but everything became a question mark around Tony. 

“That’s not necessary. Hi kiddo” the older man smiled widely looking at Peter, who was scampering towards them. 

“Hello Mr. Tony” he waved at Tony before he could sit on the chair with the help of his dad, whose attention was back on his baby. 

“I brought you something. It’s going to help with your cold. Morgan’s crazy for this.” a bowl of hot noodles served in a meat broth was placed under that curios nose of his. It was a very rich dish, and Steve was surprised he never heard of that. There was pork, eggs, vegetables in it and probably much more, hence it was more than enough nourishing for sick Peter. 

“Who’s Morgan?” Peter asked, waiting for the adults to sit and start eating all together. 

“My daughter. I’m sure you two could be great friends” Peter was sitting at the head of the table and by his both sides, as two protectors, Tony and Steve took their places, in that way facing each other. 

“Does she like dinosaurs?” Peter asked, tilting his head not very convinced about that. He didn’t really get along with the girls of his class, so he was a little sceptical about that. 

“She does. She loves the History Museum, it’s like the dinosaurs’ home. You’ve been there?” 

“No...” his little head turned to face his dad, begging him with his puppy eyes. “Can we go there? Mr. Tony can take us!” 

“Not until you eat and get better. Come on” Steve patted Peter’s back and urged him to eat, or the dinner would’ve got cold. Peter really wanted a yes as an answer but he was too weak to complain and beg again his dad. Of course, Steve would have brought him there, but that Pete did not know. Therefore, not a complain left his mouth as it was filled by the delicious noodles. 

Peter really enjoyed his meal, as well as his father, who they made fun of because he had been in the dark, unaware of the existence of such a mouth-watering dish. Tony and Peter really cooperated into messing with Steve since he appeared to be the least informed guy on the planet. Tony even offered him to prepare a class of follow-up and make him open his eyes on the controversial, crazy, stunning world of the twenty first century. 

The blonde man didn’t take it so well, he wore a pout for a few minutes, but ended up failing his mission and let it go as their laughs warmed up his heart. 

Dinner ended with an appetizing dessert that Steve teasingly argued not to be Japanese but Italian, not in pendant with the previous dish. Tony just shush him up by saying that the only desserts they had at the Japanese’s restaurants were Mochi and he didn’t want to see little Pete choking on them. 

Fair play, Steve thought, but never said. 

Tony offered to help the host washing the dishes, but Peter insisted for him to watch together WALL-E, which was streaming on television. No one could say no to that face, and Tony didn’t even think about it for a split second. The two got comfortable on the couch where Peter lied down, an advantage of small sized humans, and thanks to Tony he was wrapped around a soft blanket. 

“Look! He’s following Eve to space!” Petr was so excited about the movie and he pointed at it to show Tony the scene, even if his attention was already on the movie. 

“He is. That’s the crazy stuff love makes you do.” it was lovely to watch Tony’s attitude with kids, it changed completely. His eyes would shine with tenderness, fondness, no matter if he wasn’t his kid. Once, Steve caught him playing with Morgan in his penthouse, but Tony didn’t notice him since Steve left to let them enjoy their father-daughter moment. 

When he witnessed Tony’s interactions with Peter, or kids in general, he felt himself falling even more... but again, that was not something to consider. 

“Oh...so he’s really in love.” he sighed happily, becoming even smaller next to Tony’s figure. 

“Would you do that?” he asked soon after, looking up to Tony who lowered his sight to meet his eyes. 

“What? Going to space?” 

“Yes! Follow the love of your life to space!” he got so curious, he actually loved socializing with Tony and discovering more about him. Maybe he still got in his mind the image of the hero saving his dad, but Steve was sure that Tony’s charm worked even with kids. 

“I would yeah. If it’s the love of my life.” he admitted and Peter’s eyes were glowing for the answer he had been waiting for. 

“And have you met it?” 

Tony looked at him right into his eyes, a little lost in thinking, but then a smile of ease appeared on his face. 

“I don’t know that yet. Might have.” he answered in a low voice, probably trying to prevent Steve from hearing the conversation. 

“Now watch the movie, you snoop” he ruffled his hair and Peter, with a chuckle, went back to the movie. 

By the time Steve finished to wash the dishes, Peter was completely relaxed half on the sofa and half on Tony, with his eyes shut. 

“Hey you two” Steve had been watching them for a few minutes now. Pete tried not to lean on Tony as his head grown heavier and heavier, but the fight to keep the eyes open on the shining screen, turned out useless. At the end, he collapsed on Tony’s shoulder. 

The grown man shifted his attention from the movie to Steve’s eyes and a sweet smile brightened his face. 

“Hey Cinderella. Your kid is dead asleep” he whispered as Steve got closer and sat on the couch, on the other side of Peter. 

He placed a hand on his forehead and thankfully the warmth heating his body, had now decreased thanks to the paracetamol. 

“I should take him to bed. He doesn’t need to use you as his personal pillow” they both laughed softly, before Steve could get up and welcome sleepy Peter between his arms. Soon, Tony was left alone in the living room and Steve managed to take his son to bed without waking him up. 

When he was sure Peter was warm under the bed’s sheets, he wished him a goodnight with a kiss on the head. The door remained slightly open, as usual, and Steve went back to Tony, who apparently got so into the movie that kept watching it. 

“You’re a fan of Disney now?” Steve laughed a little, watching the extremely focused look on Tony’s face. Meanwhile he sat next to him, his eyes shifting to the tv. 

“I have a dignity to protect so don’t tell the press.” even if the movie was quite entertaining, Tony couldn’t help but contemplate the stunning man by his side. 

“As you wish” his hands were raised to surrender. 

“Morgan makes me watch Frozen every day. I have nightmares about that creepy snowman” he sighed very dramatically and Steve could relate to that, every parents probably could. 

“I know something ‘bout that.” 

“Let me guess. Cars?” 

“Nope.” 

“Toy Story? Shrek?” 

“You are a genius, you should've guessed it at the first try” Tony rolled his eyes and looked back at him for the answer. 

“Back to the future. He knows it by heart.” 

“Yeah of course. I knew it but I let you win for once” if, for a split second, Steve thought he had won the argument, now he was sure it was the complete opposite. Tony must have the last word. 

As their laughs blended beautifully together, there were a few minutes of silence between the two. There was no dialogue in the movie, so all it could be heard were the sound effects and Steve’s thoughts. Those, they never stopped and Tony’s presence suddenly made him nervous. 

He couldn’t understand why, there were alternating moments of complete peace in the presence of that man, and others, like this one, where his mind couldn’t stop wondering and being paranoid. 

Tony didn’t look that nervous, quite the contrary. He was just chilling on the sofa, showing his perfect profile. Ah, Steve could stare at it for hours, how is that even possible to look that way? He thought. 

The stare needed to stop, he didn’t want to look like a creep. Usually, it was Tony the one who felt the need to break the silence, but the tables turned and Steve’s heart was racing like a ten-year-old talking to his crush, when he decided to speak. 

“You know...It’s the first time I've ever seen him talk this much with the fever.” he laughed softly, his eyes reached Tony’s who were already resting on him. 

The brown head twisted to the right for curiosity, to which Steve responded. 

“He didn’t talk that much, I know. But usually when he’s sick he’s like a ghost.” he smiled a little to the man by his side. “You cheered him up. I’m thankful for that...and for everything else of course.” 

And here it was, the smile that made Steve’s heart race at the sight. There were those few times when Tony’s face would shine in happiness, and wrinkles would draw around his eyes due to his beautiful smile. Because it was really, really beautiful. 

“He’s a great kid. And I’m sure he gets it from his dad” his right arm was placed over the back of the couch, reaching Steve’s shoulder. Tony’s eyes were burning on Steve’s skin, and it became hard for Steve to handle himself when the situation started to heat up. Nothing ever seemed so difficult. 

He felt like another person was living, thriving, trying to free himself from him and answer to the impulses that had been ignored, suffocated, for a while. And nothing could be more terrifying than not knowing yourself anymore, to Steve it represented a lack of control of his own life, and that meant danger. 

His eyes ran from his eyes to his lips, all the endless attempts to keep them off his coral mouth were pointless, and he was hopeless. 

As Tony leaned closer to him, the temperature raised uncontrollably, the heat of the man’s body could be perceived by Steve’s one as a madly desire of rushing onto his lips was burning inside him. 

But a piece of his mind was screaming in the back of it, dragging him away from that magical, unreal, universe. 

“I umh... I'm sorry” just a forced whisper left his dry lips before he could stand up and, gripped by fear and anxiety, ran both hands through his hair, frustrated. 

The other man instead, was looking at him disoriented, trying to meet Steve’s eyes. Steve was not the only one who was confused. He never noticed that. He was too focused on himself and the changes that were affecting his entire life. But the older man deserved answers too. 

“Alright, Steve. What is going on, can you tell me? You act weird. One moment you’re into me, the following one you are running away like I have the plague. If this is all a misunderstanding you better tell me, right now.” he got up as well, trying to look less small than when he was sitting of the couch, though the height difference was still utterly noticeable. 

“It’s not you Tony...it’s me” 

“And that’s bullshit.” he said immediately, being over that meaningless and overused expression. “And you know that damn well. You wouldn’t have problems if I were a woman, would you?” his voice raised and Steve froze hearing those words. That doubt had always been in his head and now, for the first time, his thoughts were exposed by someone else. 

They looked at each other, Steve speechless in front of Tony, whose eyes were nothing like before. He would even dare to say, that he looked hurt, bitter had distorted his anterior serene expression. 

“Tony I'm not into-” Steve seemed always unable to complete that sentence. 

“Into what? You know, you’ve tried to say something like that for a while now” 

“I didn't get the chance” he breathed loudly, watching the situation slipping out his hands. The control was not his anymore. 

“Oh, I think you had plenty of time Rogers” 

Steve was considerably frustrated. His hands were sweaty as one of his biggest secrets was being deprived in front of his eyes, and there was absolutely nothing he could do to suspend the course of the events. His mouth was open, gasping for breath but not a vowel escaped from it. 

“You can say it Steve, it’s not contagious” 

“What are you- I know it’s not a disease. I'm not stupid.” 

“Well you act like it is. You’re even afraid of saying the word, maybe there’s something you have to reconsider in there captain, don’t you?” he pointed at him angrily. 

A cold silence plunged upon them one moment later. It was not betrayal, not even hatred, but Steve felt the tips of thousands of knives being shoved into his abdomen, making him wanting to fall on his knees and just cry it out. 

But then he looked at him, standing there with all his strength, not showing any sign of discomposure. How he managed to do that Steve did not know, all he knew was that he couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t accept to be weaker than him, that was not going to happen, especially not in his own house. 

The blood was boiling into his veins like a pressure cooker and suddenly his body was completely out of control. His feet moved without request towards Tony, his mouth doing the same, speaking the following words. 

“You know what Tony, I think you’re fucking contagious “ 

“I'm a little lost. How come?” he blinked a few times, tilting his head in confusion. 

“You put all this stuff inside my fucking head. With your flirty jokes, those gazes. What the hell does that mean to you uh? I am not-” and he stopped once again. 

Tony took a step forward but Steve didn’t move. There was nothing sweet about that, there was just anger and disappointment, no side excluded. 

“You are not what, Steve?” the man had the audacity to speak those words while looking right into his eyes, that altered into the darkest shade of blue. But those dark eyes did not speak. 

“What?” he pushed it even more when Steve’s eyes seemed willing to break the contact and surrender. 

And again, there was silence. 

“Say it.” no space to breath was left between them, their noses could almost touch and they would have probably enjoyed that, if they weren’t in a place of wanting to kill each other. 

“Get the hell out of my house.” Steve huffed through his teeth, his breathing hard and the carotid visibly pulsing under the red skin. 

Tony went oddly quiet, his lashes didn’t wink once before he could step back and look away. 

“This toxicity is giving me a headache anyways.” he hurried to the door as he smoothly wore his black suit. Steve didn’t give him an answer, not even a glare. His eyes were fixed on the floor and his body was a box of condensed tension. 

Tony looked at the man with the tensed arms crossed on his chest while opening the door. 

“You know Steve, instead of blaming the others for your own insecurities, I think you should question yourself before.” it was his ending line before the door could hide him from Steve’s sight. 

The room went silent. The heartbeat of Steve’s bruised heart was echoing in his ears, and the breathing did not help at all. His whole body was screaming in anger, frustration. He hated Tony, now more than ever. Or at least, that’s what he’d liked to think. He wanted to hate him, to despise him, to take his stupid expensive suits in his hands and punch the man right into the face. It was the easiest thing to do. Hate is always easy. 

Love, on the contrary, is a monstrous struggle. 

His head was spinning like on a rollercoaster, his heart pounding in his chest willing to explode at any moment, and his nostrils couldn’t manage to take in all the necessary air to help him relax. He started walking back and forth the living room, needing to contain the anger. 

Then, it hit him. The sight of the sorrowful eyes, ad lips, and body of the man he just kicked out of his house, and less than a second later, his fist collided with the wall in front of him, leaving a huge hole. 

“Fuck” he whispered out of breath when he realized the wreck he turned into, cursing for the first time the super strength. Despite the collateral effects, his breathing started to become steady, along his heart. 

While his body was cooling, his mind tried to shut itself down, like a computer, which would have actually been much easier. 

The following days thousands of doubts, unresolved questions, fears, kept running through Steve’s tired brain that was not able to fight them away. 

He was completely heartbroken, swinging between feeling sorry for how he dealt the situation with Tony, and feeling betrayed for how he himself was treated. 

He didn’t leave a single message, nor a call. He disappeared silently, like a ghost. He was nowhere to be seen. But how could Steve blame him? They were harsh on each other and until someone was ready to keep the pride aside, the situation was going to remain sterile. 

Meanwhile, Steve’s nightmares were back due to the fact that, unfortunately, the serum did not erase them. Before Steve’s peace of mind had been disrupted by the fight with Tony, it happened just once. But now, under that kind of pressure and stress, nothing was stopping them from coming back again. 

The war’s déjà vu were back on hunting him in the night, but he got to the point where he shook hands with them, welcoming them daily in his routine. That’s what they were: his routine. But the fear of catching feelings was not part of it and, right now, it was the strongest influence on him. 

The confusion was blurring his rationality. He had been distracted, even at work where he had found himself on his boss’ office, but he got lucky and left with no scratching. But Tony was not the only human contact he had been hiding from: Sharon tried more than once to hint on him as her usual, but she did not receive the desired answer. 

It never actually happened to Steve to reject Sharon’s advances, but the sex with her was now out of question. 

He was changing and he refused to accept the reason of all of that. 

And so forth, he kept living in his bubble, hiding from the man that was turning his world upside down. Every certainty became a doubt, the previous stability was trembling in front of his eyes, but his hands were tied. 

He thought that as long as he tried to keep his distance from Tony, those thoughts, those unusual feelings would have disappeared, but it didn’t seem likely to for now. 

His life used to be comfortable, stable, him and his son with no distractions. Everything was going according to the plans that Steve had organised in his head. He knew how things were supposed to work out, from the first years of Peter’s childhood till his adulthood, and nothing had to step on his toes. 

Steve went through different scenarios in order to avoid them or find a solution. He knew life was no easy job, and most of the time it can’t be designed as his own desires, but Steve had a general path to follow. 

But this, he didn’t see it coming. It was the most unexpected scenario and he had absolutely no clue about how he was supposed to act. 

It was not planned. It didn’t have a place in his “to do” list. 

Love is risky. 

And he could not afford such a peril. Not now, not ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> I apologise again for the late update. My final exams are very close and i really need to focus on them.Therefore pardon me if i will disappear for a little longer. I promise this summer, when the exams are over, i will update more frequently.  
> I'd like to give a special thank you to @stayoutpaul who always comments on my works and i feel like i didn't appreciate you enough. Thank you so much, it means really a lot to me.  
> And of course a big thank you to all of you silent readers, to the ones that leave comments and the ones that like this story! thank you for sticking around.  
> I hope you all are enjoying this as much as i am.  
> And please, let me know what you think!  
> Till next time!  
> Love,  
> xx,S

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you enjoyed it! I can't wait to analyse more Steve's relationships and give you guys a deeper look into his mind. I hope i'll manage to publish one chapter every one/two weeks. I'm still in school so i don't have much free time, but i'll try my best.  
> I have no idea where i'm supposed to write this, but i got the idea to have Peter as Steve's child from the work Peter's Stars by @parkrstark and @IronPengu,which i absolutely loved.  
> Let me know what you'd like to see more in this story,and what you think i should improve.  
> Thank you so much for your time,till next time!  
> xx,S.


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